Echoes of the Heart
by SamoaPhoenix9
Summary: AU X-over between Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, and Assassin's Creed. 2 stories intertwine: one in the past, one in the future. The tale as old as time meets the quest for the Fountain of Youth. Ignores movie 4.
1. Welcome to the Caribbean

**Echoes of the Heart**

_Author's Note: This story is a crossover between Disney's Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, and the Ubisoft video game Assassin's Creed. Hopefully all will be explained as we go along, but if you're not a gamer (or don't live with a gamer, the way I do) then all you need to know about Assassin's Creed is that the storyline has to do with a machine called 'Animus' that allows people to re-live 'genetic memory,' which is the memories of a direct ancestor. The game focuses on a modern-day man, Desmond, and his ancestor Altaïr (the assassin of the title, who lived in the Holy Land during the 3__rd__ Crusade). Desmond is forced by a group of ruthless businessmen to re-live Altaïr's memories so they can find the location of a magical treasure. For more information, see the Wikipedia site dedicated to Assassin's Creed, or do a YouTube search to watch some game footage. And now, fasten your seatbelts, strap on your crash helmets and unfurl the sails! We're about to get started…_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

* * *

**Robin Grey, St. Croix (Virgin Islands), 2017**

Robin strolled into the bar like the regular she was. It was still fairly early, so the island tourists wouldn't have arrived for a night of drinking after a strenuous day of lying out on the beach.

"Hey, Robbie," the bartender greeted her. "The usual?"

"I'll take a martini, Miles," she replied as she seated herself.

His eyebrows rose. "Tough day?"

"Dunno. It's just…a feeling. I've been tense all day and I don't know why."

"Work's good?" Miles asked as he poured her drink.

"Work's great. I love working with the dolphins. We're even starting to make some progress with Sammy, teaching her to touch the keypad." Robin sighed and ran a hand through her short brown hair, something she did often and left the blond-highlighted locks looking windswept by day's end. "I just…I think I'm being followed."

"Is it your folks?"

Robin glared at him. "Not so loud! If they _have_ hired someone to find me again, that kind of thing will tip them off!" She rarely regretted telling her friend so much of her past, but this was one of those times.

"Sorry, Rob." He glanced around, but the barroom and adjacent restaurant were empty. "D'you think they are following you after all this time?"

Robin sipped her martini. "Hard to say. I'dve thought they'd have given up by now. It's been four years. I thought when I evaded the last PI they hired they'd realize I want to make a life of my own."

Miles shook his head. "I don't understand you sometimes. If I'd have been given half of what you had as a kid, I'd be—"

"That's just it. _Given_. Not earned. If you'd seen what those rich brats at Yale do because they know their parents' lawyers can get them out of it, you'd have dropped out, too."

Miles chuckled. "I think I'd have put up with it. A degree from Yale's not something to sneer at. We don't all have your ideals."

Something about the regret in his voice niggled at her. "Nobody's been asking questions about me, have they?"

Someone entered the bar behind her. She spun to face a tall man, dressed oddly for the tropical weather in a sport coat, white t-shirt and long jeans. He had dark hair only slightly faded with gray, though he was her father's age if he was a day. He was followed by several more tough-looking men who made a solid wall between her and escape. She turned back to Miles, hurt and betrayal on her pixie features. "Miles, how could you…"

He looked at her sadly. "Sorry, Robbie. They were pretty persuasive." He tilted his head slightly to show that his neck was marked with fingerprint bruises.

Robin grabbed the counter to steady her wobbly knees. Suddenly she was tired, so tired. Glancing at her martini, she understood why. She'd been drugged. "Who…who are you?" she gasped out. "Even my parents wouldn't…"

She sagged to the floor before she even finished her sentence. Someone caught her. As the darkness took her, she heard the tall man say, "You're right. They didn't."

* * *

Robin opened her eyes. For a moment she thought she saw, as if from a ship, land disappearing into a mist. But that quickly faded, and what she did see was a plain white ceiling scattered with fluorescent lights. Her head throbbed when she tried to look at them. She squeezed her eyes shut and moaned.

"She's awake," said an unfamiliar male voice from nearby.

"Good," said another voice. This one she recognized but couldn't place.

Robin blinked her eyes open again. The light didn't hurt quite so much. She felt as though she were recovering from a migraine or a hangover. Her whole skull was tender. She glanced around, and jumped. Seated in a chair next to the bed on which she lay was a young man about her own age. He was startlingly thin, with proportionately sharp features. His long black hair was pulled back to the nape of his neck. As if to emphasize his milky pale skin, he wore all black and had a black bar pierced through one eyebrow. Around his neck was an odd silver charm on a black leather thong.

He offered her a grim smile. "There's water next to the bed. When you've finished it, come on out. We'll talk." His voice was not the high nasaly sound she'd expected from his appearance, but a rather pleasant baritone. He got up and left.

Robin sat up and looked around. She was still fully clothed, lying on a narrow bed in a small room that had to be about six feet square. There was barely enough space for the bed and chair and still have room to swing open the door. The floor was hard tile, the walls concrete. She could be anywhere, but was willing to bet her parents had nothing to do with this. If they had, she'd be in her own suite of rooms right now with one of the maids bringing hot tea for her headache.

A glass of water sat on the floor near the head of the bed. Wincing, Robin swung her legs around to sit on the bed. She didn't want to drink, thinking of how she'd swallowed the martini without caution, but her mouth was cotton-dry. Hoping it was only water, she picked up the glass and put it to her lips.

By the time she finished the water, she felt almost like herself again. If there was anything in it, it sure tasted like water.

She got up and went into the next room, rubbing her neck and running hands through her wild hair. It was a large room that looked like a converted warehouse, with wires and tubes snaking all over the floor.

At the nearer end of the warehouse was a platform bed that looked as though it were made of steel, with lights and monitors blinking all around it. Most of the wires in the room were connected to it in some way. The bed itself, however, looked too polished, too modern, to really belong in this place of exposed wires and girders. It was smoothly contoured to conform to the human backbone.

Movement caught Robin's eye. At the other end of the room was set a conference table with six office chairs around it. Two of the chairs were occupied, by men she had seen before. One was the boy who'd been watching her sleep. The other was the tall man from the bar, still dressed in a sport coat and jeans. They stood when they saw her looking at them.

"Join us, Miss Grey," the older man called.

Cautiously, she approached the table. Close up, she could see enough resemblance between the two that they could be father and son. Especially in the uneven dark eyebrows and the arrogant tilt of the chin. The older man was at the head of the table at the far end, the boy on his right.

Robin stood behind the chair at the other end of the table, gripping its back in suddenly damp palms. "What is going on here?" she demanded. "If you've kidnapped me to extort money from my parents, rest assured you won't get it. My father cares more about his business assets than he ever did about me."

The older man looked at the younger. "Well, it seems I owe you, son. You said she'd skip right over the pretending to be nobody important to refusing to be a hostage, and so she has." The boy smirked, but said nothing. The man sat down and leaned back in his chair, taking in every inch of Robin's five-foot frame. "Please, my dear, don't trouble me with your bluffs. I happen to know your father cares very much for his only daughter and would pay handsomely to have you returned to him unharmed were he to find you in duress. Fortunately for both of you, it's not money I'm after."

"Then what do you want?"

"Sit down and we'll talk about it."

"You kidnapped me just to talk?" Robin demanded, staying where she was.

The man shrugged at this. "Let me at least introduce myself. I am Russell Carey. You've met my son, Kyle." The boy nodded to her.

Robin goggled. "_You're_ Kyle Carey? That kid who graduated from MIT with honors at sixteen a few years ago?"

"That's me." Kyle tossed his black locks, trying to look nonchalant, but Robin wasn't fooled. This kid was too smart for his own good, and he knew it. Probably even enjoyed it.

"There isn't a machine in existence he can't figure out," Russell said fondly. "That's why he's here. Kyle's been helping me with a little project. One that you're a crucial part of, Miss Grey."

"Me?"

Russell steepled his fingers. "I'm sure you heard that the Abstergo company went out of business a few years ago?"

"Sure. Federal charges." She'd still been at home then. Her father had talked of nothing else for weeks. "Something about particularly unsavory business practices. Kidnapping, attempted murder, that kind of thing." She said this in a tone of voice meant to sting. Kyle sent her a smirk that could have been encouragement or disdain; it was impossible to tell.

Unlike his son, Russell didn't even seem to notice her attempted barb. He was nodding sagely. "You're quite right. Anyhow, before they dissolved they sold off a great deal of their inventions and copyrights to their debtors. I acquired only one item, and it took years to get it into working condition again. Its secrets didn't come as part of the deal."

Robin couldn't resist a glance over her shoulder at the metal bed.

Russell chuckled. "Smart girl. Yes, the Animus."

"Ani-whatsis?" Robin repeated.

"Animus," said Kyle, sounding slightly condescending. "It's a machine that allows a subject to experience an ancestor's encoded genetic memories as if they were their own."

"Say that again, in English please," Robin replied, mimicking his haughty tone.

Kyle looked down his nose, but he complied. "The memories of your direct ancestors are stored, along with your own memories, in your brain as part of your genetic sequencing."

"You're losing me again." Robin crossed her arms.

"Our ancestors' memories are stored in our DNA and hardwired into our brains," explained Kyle. "It's how birds know to return to a specific place when they migrate, even though they've never seen the place before themselves. The Animus was developed by a doctor at Abstergo Labs to allow these memories to be experienced by a person as if they were living in the past. If, for example, I were to be plugged into the Animus, I would be able to experience, from my grandfather's perspective, the day he met my grandmother. In theory, anyway."

"I think I get it. What's the catch?"

"Very often you can't just pick a day out of the life of someone you're descended from and live through it. It takes time for your body's own memories to 'sync up,' or accept the ancestor's memory as if it were your own. Sometimes you have to run through days, even weeks of memory before you find the one you were actually looking for."

Robin considered this. It sounded crazy, but what couldn't be done with technology these days? "And where do I come in to all this? Don't tell me, let me guess: you want me to be a guinea pig."

"Not exactly. We've already tried it successfully with several subjects," Russell said. "To put it plainly, we're looking for something. We've done our homework, and you're descended from someone, a woman from the eighteenth century, who may have seen this thing. Or at least know of it."

"This thing is so important you had to kidnap me to secure my consent? You couldn't have just asked?" demanded Robin.

"You're an elusive young lady." Russell's mouth twitched. "You covered your trail pretty well, to hide from your parents' resources. I knew if you got wind someone was looking for you, odds were you'd vanish again. This seemed the most effective way to secure an audience with you."

"You hurt Miles," she accused.

"Now you know what lengths we'll go to get what we want."

"What _do_ you want?"

"Your cooperation until we find the thing we're looking for."

"What if I won't cooperate?"

"I wouldn't advise it."

"And afterwards?"

"You'll be free to go." Kyle ducked his head slightly as his father spoke, and Robin knew it wouldn't be as easy as that. But what choice did she have except to go along? He'd as good as told her they were willing to force her into this, and she was really in no position to refuse. If she was lucky, maybe she'd be able to get away later.

She sighed. "All right, I agree. How long will this take, anyway?"

Kyle stood and made his way to her end of the table. "I won't know that until we've hooked you up and I've been able to see where we have to start from. I may be able to fast forward through some memories. But memories run in realtime, so if you experience a full hour of your ancestress's memories, it's taken an hour here, too."

"So it could take days." Robin followed him towards the Animus, her stomach sinking.

"Or weeks. Also, to keep your brain syncing with the Animus for more than twelve hours at a time is dangerous. It not only exhausts you mentally, degrading the quality of the sync, but if the machine overheats you could lapse into a coma. Worst-case scenario, you might become permanently brain-dead."

Robin halted about three feet from the metal table. "I could have sworn I just heard the words 'coma' and 'brain-dead.' Please tell me I didn't."

Kyle looked as though he would have liked to roll his eyes. "Being connected to the Animus takes two kinds of power: electric, and your brainpower. If your brain can't concentrate anymore because it's tired, then the connection with the Animus gets lost. Worse, if the machinery runs for too long without a break, then you could end up as a vegetable."

"Yikes." Robin stared at him. Brain-dead?

"Yeah. Fortunately, you've got the best on your side in yours truly." He favored her with that know-it-all smirk that made her itch to hit him. "I'll be monitoring your vital signs. If there's a serious problem, I'll pull you out of it."

"How reassuring," she grumbled.

"Jewelry off, please," he said, holding out a hand. "The Animus tends to react oddly to excess metal."

She removed the two cheap silver rings she often wore, as well as the small cubic zirconium stud in her left nostril. If it bothered him to have her put that into his palm, as she'd secretly hoped it would, he didn't show it.

Gallantly, he helped her lie down on the bed. It was more comfortable than she'd been anticipating. She expected him to hook her up to the machine with wires, but instead he walked a few paces away.

She raised her head. "Where are you going? Aren't you going to plug me in?"

"Nowhere. And just by lying there, you're automatically connected to the Animus through sensors underneath you. Now, try to relax. If you fight the synchronization, this process will take a lot longer."

She heard him tapping on keys. "Wait a minute. Can you at least give me some background on…on what I'll be seeing?"

"Of course. You're going into the year 1767. Two hundred and fifty years ago. Your ancestress, the woman you'll become, her name is Vanessa Swift. She's twenty-one, a poor English servant, sailing to the Caribbean in search of employment with a wealthy plantation family there. The rest you'll learn as you go along. Here we go."

More computer keys tapping. A glass cylinder slid over her head. At first, she could see through it, but slowly blue fog was projected onto it. She squinted. She was melting into that fog, or being drawn into it, and she saw…she saw…a shore drawing away across a stretch of water…and…


	2. Vanessa

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. Wow, that's a lot of stuff I don't own._

**Vanessa Swift, aboard the brig 'Lady Swan', 1767**

Vanessa rested her arms on the rail as she watched England slip away. She noticed many of the other passengers who were doing the same had tears in their eyes.

"Regrets?" asked a voice from behind her.

Vanessa smiled at her father, Edward Swift, as he put a hand on her shoulder. He was a small man with hair that had once been brown but was now muddy blond due to graying. "Not really, Papa," she replied, turning back. England had vanished into the low-lying mist around the Liverpool harbor.

"Good," he said warmly. "That's what I want to see in a daughter of mine. Always looking forward."

Still, Vanessa couldn't help a final glance. So many unhappy memories they were leaving behind! Failed after failed invention of her father's. Watching her beautiful mother slowly die of consumption, taking their funds with her as they struggled to keep her alive. Life as a dockside tavern maid: hard work, long hours, little thanks, and enduring the advances of the rough men who came in off the ships after never seeing a woman for six months. Having no time at all for music.

She and her father had shared a tiny room off the tavern kitchen while he tried to make money by investing in cargoes. At last and in desperation, pooling everything they had, they had booked passage on a merchant ship bound for the Caribbean in hopes of starting anew.

"Nessie! Come help me make certain our things are properly stowed!" called Edward.

Vanessa knew perfectly well her father only meant to check on his latest pet project, tied down next to their solitary sea-chest. But she smiled and stumbled her way across the deck to the hatch. She'd been told the tossing of the ship took getting used to. At this point, she doubted she ever would!

-0-0-

_As Vanessa climbs down the hatch, the scene wavers. Blue lines of meaningless code chase their way across her vision. The sunlight shifts through the spectrum from red to violet and back again. Vanessa continues down the ladder as if there's nothing wrong, but some other part of her is terrified._

_No! She's not Vanessa! She's…she's…_

-0-0-

**Robin, 2017**

Robin's eyes flew open. The glass dome over her head drew back, and she sat up sharply.

Someone's hand took her elbow. She turned, saw that it was the sharp-faced young man, and shook him off before she even really remembered his name. "I'm _fine_."

He actually seemed hurt. "You didn't look fine. Your vitals were racing. I thought you were going to seize on me." He paused. "What happened?"

"I don't know. You tell me," she snapped, trying to get her heart under control. Kyle. His name was Kyle.

"Maybe if you described it?" his voice had gone condescending again.

"It seemed to be working pretty well. I was Vanessa—Robin didn't exist. I was on a ship, sailing away from England to the Caribbean. Like you said. As I—she, was going down the ship's hatch, everything started breaking up. I saw some kind of weird blue code, and the light was changing colors really fast."

"Hmm." He bent and adjusted a few wires under the table. "Sounds like your brain was trying to reject Vanessa's memories. Similar things happened with other subjects, though it seems every case is unique."

"Is everything all right?"

Robin jumped. Russell had come up behind her and was peering at Kyle's back.

"Fine," Kyle said, not turning around. "I need to adjust a few things, and she needs a good—natural—night's sleep. Based on the evidence, I can theorize that trace amounts of the sedative were interfering with her brain's processing speed, so it started to go haywire after only a few minutes of genetic memory."

"I see." Russell turned to Robin. "Well, young lady, it seems you've been given a night's reprieve. Enjoy it. We'll wake you when we're ready to start tomorrow."

"Thanks," Robin said, trying not to sound sarcastic. She must have succeeded, because he turned and walked away. He buzzed himself out of the main room—it was the first time Robin noticed the door to the outside was locked with a keypad. She glanced at Kyle, but he seemed engrossed with the Animus. Shrugging, she went into the tiny bedroom.

There didn't seem to be anything for her to change into, or anyplace to shower or brush her teeth. Feeling disgusting, she removed her shoes and crawled meekly into the bed. Small as it was, it was quite comfortable, and Robin felt exhaustion begin to creep in. She was asleep almost as soon as she closed her eyes.

Kyle was waiting when she awoke. There were dark smudges under his eyes, and she wondered if he'd slept at all. Then she wondered how long he'd been watching her. She decided not to ask either question.

He led her into the main room, where a few cereal choices were laid out on the conference table. They ate breakfast silently and proceeded to the Animus. Again, Kyle helped her onto the table.

"I think I've adjusted everything," he said. "And I should be able to fast forward about a month and a half, so you won't be living through the whole Atlantic voyage. Now that I've seen where we are, I can calibrate and adjust accordingly."

"That's good, right?"

He gave her a look. "Yes, it's good. It means I've saved weeks of tedium for us both."

"I suppose I should thank you, then."

He eyed her to see if she was being sarcastic, then shrugged. "Ready?"

She nodded.

-0-0-

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa walked towards the bow, her body easily rolling with the motion of the boards beneath her after seven weeks at sea. She and Edward had both been quite seasick off and on over the past weeks, so she hadn't been out on deck much. But now her father was resting, and she actually felt decent.

The sailors all nodded to her as she went by, but seemed too busy with various tasks to offer more than that. That was fine with her. She'd had enough experience with sailors to last her a lifetime.

Her destination was the furthest a passenger could go on board ship: the place where the deck rails met. The sailors of course could go further; the bravest of them might climb out onto the boom that stuck out from the prow to cut the lines tied to the sails during a storm. Fortunately, this hadn't been necessary yet as the weather had been fairly calm. There had been squalls, but nothing the captain and his mates couldn't handle.

Vanessa had only been out here twice before. Both times, seasickness had claimed either her or Edward again before she could return, forcing her to spend her days and nights in the smelly, damp hold below. Now the voyage was almost over. The captain bragged to his passengers that they would be seeing land any day now.

The captain. Captain Kerry always seemed to be boasting or bragging about something. Especially around the women onboard ship. Most particularly around Vanessa, the only single woman of marriageable age. Vanessa couldn't guess what he saw in her. He was the captain of his own ship, and well on his way to being a very prosperous man. She was a dowerless former tavern maid of neither wealth nor position. Her father didn't even have a living, at the moment. Yet still the captain found excuses to be in her presence for longer than was correct under the strictest rules of propriety.

Vanessa had to admit he was quite handsome: tall and well-built, with raven-black hair he tied behind his head with a silk ribbon, and such fair skin and clear blue eyes that he likely had strong Irish blood in his veins. Though he must spend a good deal of time on deck in his capacity as captain, his skin never seemed to burn or wrinkle. He had to be thirty if he was a day, but he could easily pass for a much younger man.

His first mate was a different story altogether. A small, heavily muscular man, as working sailors tend to be, he rarely spoke except to bellow instructions to the crew. His age was also impossible to guess, but for an entirely different reason than his superior: his skin was incredibly dark and leathery from the sun, and he sported a shock of hair so bleached by the elements it was almost white. For all anyone knew, he might be anywhere from twenty-five to sixty-five. He was often to be seen in the presence of the captain, though for what exact purpose Vanessa couldn't guess. Perhaps simply to be of service in the general way of things.

She reached her destination and rested her elbows against the rail, much as she'd done their first day aboard to watch England slip away. Now she looked forward to seeing tropical Port Royal appear on the horizon.

A shadow fell across her. Vanessa knew its owner without having to turn around: Captain Kerry. No one else on board the Lady Swan was quite that tall. Or would come so close without announcing himself.

"Sir?" she said, refusing to turn and be blinded by the sun. Not for a moment would she be disadvantaged in his presence.

"Miss Swift. How nice to see you out and about after so long," he said smoothly. The captain did have an elegant voice, Vanessa had to admit. Deep and rich. He could bellow right over his first mate, as well, when the situation demanded.

"My father and I have both been sore afflicted with seasickness, sir."

"I'm sorry to hear it. But perhaps a turn about the deck and the bracing sea air will do you some good." And he held at his arm.

Vanessa stared at the arm, and then back at his face. There was something haughty in his expression, as though he were certain of her answer. She was also suddenly acutely aware that half the crew was staring the pair of them while their captain's back was turned. She knew that to accept was to imply something more personal between them than she wanted there to be.

She must phrase this very carefully to avoid giving insult. "If you please, sir, it was the motion of the deck that made me ill. I think perhaps walking might make it worse. If you don't mind, I'd like to stay here at the bow. Perhaps I'll be the first to sight land."

"Ah. Perhaps." If he saw through her weak excuse, he hid it well. There was a short pause, then he continued genially, "I believe it may excite you to know that we have something in common, Miss Swift."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"I hear on the wind that you hail from the fair land of Eire. I was born and raised in Belfast. Perhaps you are familiar with it as well?"

To hear him refer to her mother's country as Eire, as she had, tugged at Vanessa's heart. "I'm sorry to disappoint, sir, but I have never been to Ireland. My mother came from Dublin. She used to tell me wonderful stories about her childhood there. And she taught me to play music such as they do there…" She trailed off. Unwittingly, she'd strayed too far into the personal.

"Perhaps some evening you will favor me with a concert."

Vanessa bit her lip. He'd said "me," not "us." So they were to be alone, without the crew or other passengers. Again, a hint that they were intimate, which she certainly had not invited.

She decided to be blunt. "This is hardly gentlemanly behavior, Captain. What is it, precisely, that you want?"

He stepped closer. Vanessa backed away until she hit the rails. She was pinned, and cursed herself for not seeing this coming. A part of her, the part that was observing from the back of her mind yelled, in a voice different from hers: _He's making a move on you! Hit him. Go on. Hit him!_

But Vanessa remained rooted to the spot. Captain Kerry leaned down and whispered in her ear, "You know what I want, Miss Swift." He let that sink in, and while she was still gasping like a fish, added, "Such an arrangement would be profitable for us both. I have friends in high places in Port Royal who could help you—and your father—enormously."

"You—" Vanessa was so stunned she could get no words out beyond that. She was paid back doubly for her boldness. It had happened like this every time she'd talked back to sailors at the inn. They always made her sorry. Such abuse had stopped before it actually claimed her virtue—for that she could go to a magistrate. But if she complained about anything else she would have lost her place at the inn, and she and her father needed the money. She had bit her tongue and endured. She had hoped things would get better when England was behind her. Now, it was happening again. Only worse.

Men saw only her beauty, and the fact that she was poor. Always, they took advantage.

Vanessa longed for the courage to slap him, to spit in his face and call him the vile names he deserved for making such advances on an unprotected woman. But she could do neither. Shaking her head violently, she pressed herself into the wood behind her, begging an angel to come and carry her a thousand miles away.

A shout from above saved her. Man and girl turned as one to look upward. In the crow's nest, they could just make out a man silhouetted against the sun. He pointed frantically to the east.

Following the direction of his arm, Vanessa saw a horde of black clouds on the horizon like a Judgment Day army before the first trumpet call to charge.

The Captain stood up straight, moving his arm to release her. "Get below, Miss!" he said quickly. "Tell the other passengers that they're to be locked in the hold for their own safety. We'll speak again later. Go!" he roared when she had trouble forcing herself to move.

She broke and ran. As she clambered down the ladder from the hatch, she heard the Captain's voice roar out again: "All hands on deck!"

* * *

_Author's Note: Oi, this was a hard chapter to write. I wrote more than half of it, and then I hit a plot bump and couldn't continue. I'd come back, read it, and not be able to add. Finally my characters were ready. So tell me what you think?_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	3. The Sea is Wide

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. Wow, that's a lot of stuff I don't own._

**Robin, 2017**

"Better?" was the first thing Robin heard when she could see warehouse ceiling again instead of blue mist. Words spoken by Kyle, who was also helping her to sit up.

"If by that you mean, 'No sudden overloads or weird colors,' then yes," she replied. "But it's not exactly a pleasant sensation when you would do one thing but the body you're inhabiting does another. I wanted so badly to deck that creep, but she just stood there and took it!"

"I don't understand."

"Vanessa!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "The Captain on her ship was taking a pass at her. Not even subtle about it! God, I wanted so much to hit him. But she just froze up."

"I know what happened. I was watching it all on that monitor." Kyle gestured towards one of the computer screens. He walked over to a keypad and began typing. "But what you report is interesting. Most of the time when people have fully 'synced' with an ancestor, the ancestor does exactly what they would have done themselves."

"So I'm unusual," grumbled Robin.

"Not necessarily. Had Vanessa been raised in this post-feminist movement world of ours, she might have 'decked' him, as you put it." He eyed her unconvinced face. "Or maybe not. But remember that women back then had it drilled into them since day one that they were the weaker, inferior of the sexes. She may have wanted to assert herself but didn't know how."

"How do you know all this?" In fact, little as she wanted to admit it, Robin was in awe of Kyle. He seemed so much smarter than her, and he clearly knew a lot more than just how to fiddle with electronics and make them work.

"Oh, I have my side interests. That particular time period, pirates and shipwrecks and so on, I've always been interested in since I was a kid. Come on, Dad had someone bring dinner a few minutes ago. Hope you like Italian." He led the way to the conference table.

Robin's mind latched onto something he'd just said. "Pirates?"

He winced. "You'll see. Hopefully."

"That doesn't sound good. Does Vanessa meet up with pirates later on?"

"We think so." Kyle held out a chair for her, which she deliberately ignored and sat in the one next to it. He shrugged and sat in the chair himself. "It has to do with that treasure Dad's after. You know pirates and treasure always go together, right?"

At that moment, as if the mention of his name had called him, the door opened and Russell came striding in.

"Ah! Glad you waited for me!" he exclaimed, as if coming home to a family dinner instead of a meal with his grown-up prodigy son and a girl he'd kidnapped.

"Hi, Dad," said Kyle, so low Robin thought the older man might not have heard.

"How'd it go today?" demanded Russell as he seated himself at the head of the table.

"Still a long way to go," Kyle replied, still in that low voice. He dished himself a helping of salad with slightly wilted lettuce and passed the bowl to Robin.

"Thanks," she said, more out of habit than anything else. To Russell, she suggested, "Maybe it would help if I knew what you're looking for? I could keep an eye out for it."

Father and son exchanged glances. Then they both spoke at once.

"We'll know it when we see it," said Russell.

"Actually, we don't know…" began Kyle. He stopped at the glare Russell shot him.

"You don't know what the treasure is?" finished Robin sweetly, storing this information away for later.

"Not exactly," answered Russell, glaring at his son again. "But we know it exists. Like I said, we'll know it when we see it. And that's all _you_ need to know. You do your job, we do ours."

"Sure." Robin pretended to intensely concentrate on getting just the right amount of tomato sauce on her pasta to hide her own scowl.

"We were just discussing pirates when you came in," put in Kyle "I told her we think Vanessa runs in to some."

"Ah," said Russell, adding even more spaghetti to his own plate. "What do you think of pirates, Miss Grey?"

"I liked the stories. I used to pretend I was a pirate. What little kid doesn't?" She played with a strand of spaghetti with her plastic fork. "I guess I got disillusioned with them later on. I read a book when I was eleven about how pirates really lived, with the nonstop work and scurvy and getting legs blown off and all that kind of thing. Plus they really didn't like having girls on board ship. After that I didn't want to be a pirate anymore."

Russell threw back his head and laughed uproariously. "Feminism! It's ruined the entire female population of your generation. You'll be lucky to find a woman that's not too independent to be tied down for more than a year or two, Kyle."

Kyle and Robin exchanged glances, and for the first time Robin found herself completely in charity with the young man. Clearly he didn't agree with his father on this point but wasn't going to argue. Luckily, Russell didn't catch this look because he was piling his fork with spaghetti. With his mouth full, he asked, "So what did you see today? Anything helpful?"

Robin barely kept back a sharp reply, and settled for "I don't know."

"She's still on the Lady Swan, Dad," said Kyle.

Russell swallowed, frowning. "Can't you go any faster?"

"I'm doing my best. Can't help where I had to start in Vanessa Swift's memories."

"Mmm." Robin got the distinct sensation Russell was not pleased.

"What happens to her?" she demanded suddenly. "Vanessa, I mean. Since she must go on to have kids since you know I'm descended from her. Where does she end up?"

"That's some of the puzzle," said Kyle when it became clear his father wasn't going to answer. "Vanessa sailed to the Caribbean in 1767. Her name is on the passenger list for the Lady Swan. The next time she appears in any record books, she's a rich plantation owner's wife."

"So she doesn't marry that jerk Captain Kerry. Good," Robin said. She started to dig in to her spaghetti, then looked up at the odd silence. Both Kyle and Russell were staring at her. Kyle's expression was, as usual, impossible to read. Russell looked angry, but that could be left over from his annoyance at their slow pace. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"What?" Kyle looked at his father, turning his head so Robin couldn't see his face. Then he looked back at her. "Nothing." He began to carefully slice his noodles into equal pieces.

Russell put some spaghetti in his mouth with a determination that ended any further attempt at conversation. The rest of dinner was completely silent. Russell left immediately afterwards. Kyle walked Robin to the door to her own room, which she thought completely unnecessary. She supposed he was just looking after his lab rat.

"Make sure you sleep. There's a lot to do tomorrow," he said.

"Can't wait."

"Sarcasm, right?"

She looked back at him and rolled her eyes. "I'm working on it."

-0-0-

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa huddled with Edward in the hold. The storm had been raging for at least two days. At least, according to her father's invention that supposedly accurately gave the time when there was no sundial. Vanessa had never completely trusted it. It felt as though the storm had been going on for weeks.

"Oh, Papa, I'm beginning to fear the worst," she whispered. "We must be far off course by now, and if we continue much longer we may run out of stores. What shall we do then?"

"Hush, child, you mustn't think such things," admonished Edward, though she could see from his face he was at least as frightened as she was herself. "All we can do is pray."

"Tell me story, Papa," she begged, as if she were eight years old again. "It will help pass the time. Tell me the one about the princess cursed to sleep for a hundred years in the woods until her prince came and kissed her awake."

"I have a better idea. Perhaps you should unpack your flute and play for us. That might soothe all our nerves," her father said. He glanced around at the gaunt, white faces of the other passengers in the hold, lit by a single guttering lamp lashed firmly to the boards overhead. "What do you say, girl? Play something your mother loved."

Now that she thought about it, Vanessa hadn't seen anyone smile since the storm began. "You have such faith in my abilities!" she replied, pretending to consider refusal. "I can barely see to find our trunk, let alone play."

"I know you, my dear. You have a gift. You could play in the bottom of a mine and charm diamonds out of the rock."

"You give me far too much credit," Vanessa said. Against her own better judgment, she was already feeling her way over to the trunks lashed to the outer wall. Of course, she knew precisely where in the trunk her flute-case was stored. As she made her way back to her father she could see the glitter of nearby curious eyes.

"Ah, good," Edward said when he saw her fiddling with the case's lock. "It should still be in working order, then?"

"I would imagine," Vanessa answered absently. Just having her hands on her precious instrument again had made her slightly dreamy. She removed the small wooden Irish flute and played a few soft experimental notes that could barely be heard above the storm. "Sounds well enough." She ran through a few scales, then began one of the lullabies her mother had once played for her when she couldn't sleep.

The first few notes had barely sounded before she sensed that she had the attention of everyone in the hold. When she had finished, she began another song, this one distant, longing. Her mother had called it "Carrickfergus." Even the sound of the wind and water howling outside seemed to diminish at the lilting tones. The few Irish passengers began to hum, and then sing along:

The sea is wide, and I cannot swim over,

Nor have I the wings to fly…

Reality came back with a crash that rocked the entire ship. Screams of fear from the passengers combined with the sudden heightening of the sounds of the storm outside. The timbers of the Lady Swan seemed to groan, and with a terrible popping noise, water began to rush into the hold.

There was a crazed dash to the hatch door, which of course was latched from the outside. Those closest to the door, in danger of being crushed against it, pounded on it as frantically as they were able.

A clack. The bolt slid back, the door swung open, and there was a stampede. Vanessa, who happened to be near the back, wondered in horror how the ladder could take the weight of so many trying to crowd onto it. Now that the hatch was open, the sounds of the storm were even more furious; above it she could hear the cries of the sailors.

"Abandon ship!"

"All hands abandon ship!"

"We've scuttled on rocks!"

"Everyone to the boats!"

At last, Vanessa managed to make her way up the ladder. A strong hand practically dragged her up the last few rungs. She looked up into the bloodshot eyes of Captain Kerry. There was nothing neat about his appearance now; he looked as frantic as anyone else in the mad dash to escape the deathtrap the Lady Swan had become.

"Quick! Come with me! There's room in my boat!" He escorted her to the small boat where the first mate waited to shove off along with a few other crew members. There was no one from among the paying passengers.

"Wait! Papa!" Vanessa turned frantically back and forth to the other lifeboats, searching for her father's face. She didn't see him. He wasn't in any of the boats, nor in line for one.

"Papa!" she screamed, turning to run back to the hold.

"No!" The Captain seized her arm. "You can't go back! The ladder's gone. It's every man for himself now! Leave him!"

"Let me go!" Vanessa twisted frantically in his grasp. "I have to get to him! Papa! Papa!" The pouring rain and flying seawater made her skin slick. She slid out of the Captain's hold and ran back across the deck.

"Shove off, you dogs!" she heard the first mate yell from behind her. She was on her own.

Fear rose like acid in her chest. What to do now? Looking into the hold, she could see it was filling rapidly with water. Captain Kerry had been correct; the ladder was gone.

"Papa!" she shouted. A wave slapped her in the face, almost choking her. She could see him now as she peered sideways. He was struggling with something where their trunks had been lashed. Horror closed her throat completely. He was trying to save his precious inventions.

Forgetting everything else, Vanessa gathered her skirts and leapt into the hold. She made it halfway before the rushing water tugged her back against the far wall. She screamed herself hoarse, but Edward didn't seem to hear. Another rush of water dragged him across to slam into the wall beside her. She grabbed him and held him close, for the impact seemed to have temporarily stunned him.

Another ominous creak. A groan of ancient timbers strained beyond their capacity to hold. The ship came apart at the middle, snapping like a plaything made of matchsticks. Into the water went both Vanessa and Edward.

The first thing Vanessa thought was that it was cold for supposedly being tropical waters. Then she remembered, almost with a detached amusement, that neither she nor their father could do more than paddle ineffectually. Learning to swim had never been high on the priority list, right alongside painting, riding, reading Latin, and other aristocratic pastimes. It wouldn't have done much good anyway, in this storm. Even the best swimmer could never survive more than half a minute. Then her head went under, and she forgot about everything else but a frantic fight to the surface against the water and her own entangling clothes.

She managed two quick breaths, half filling her mouth with seawater in the process. The third time, she couldn't find the surface. Water was everywhere. All she could see was blue, and even that seemed to be growing darker. And colder.

White shapes moved against the blackness. That was all she could make out. Or maybe it was a single shape, impossibly large. Something bumped Vanessa, hard. Her rapidly fading consciousness reasoned it had to be one of the rocks the ship had broken apart on. She tried to grasp it, but it seemed to slip away again with a feeling like sandpaper against the tips of her fingers.

With it went her last hope. Vanessa, resigned, stopped struggling and let the rest of the world fade.

Another flash of white. Almost like skin.

* * *

_Author's Note: I know you all hate me by this point. Don't begrudge me my cliffhangers._

"_Carrickfergus" is a real Irish ballad. A very pretty version sung by Charlotte Church was my main inspiration for putting it in this chapter; it has a flute part with it that sounds how I imagine Vanessa's playing would. In true fanfiction style, I must now acknowledge that I don't own the song._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	4. Sea Beast

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. Wow, that's a lot of stuff I don't own._

**Vanessa, 1767**

The agony was intense. Vanessa was expelling seawater before she was even fully conscious. Only when she could take a breath without pain did she start to become aware of other things.

The first was that she was still soaked, and cold. Her feet in particular were icy, and occasionally slaps of cold crept up her ankles as well. There was sand under her hands, but it seemed to be heaving and subsiding as the ship had done. Dizzy and exhausted beyond belief, Vanessa fainted again.

The next time she awoke, she felt much better. The sand no longer rocked under her, and she had coughed and vomited out any remaining seawater. There were also new details to grasp: the things that lapped cold around her feet were waves. That and the sand under her hands and cheek (she was lying facedown with her head turned sideways) told her she was on a beach. She could also feel rain falling against her upturned cheek; the storm was not yet completely over. She felt beaten, scraped, and bruised in a thousand places, but she was still alive, and somehow had made it to a shore. And there was something sharp digging into one hip.

_Papa!_ Vanessa's muscles gained new life at the thought. She managed to push herself to her hands and knees, then to a kneeling position. Enough to draw completely out of the ocean's touch, and look around.

To her relief, Edward lay beside her, in much the same state as she'd been. He didn't appear to be ready to come around soon, though his breathing was steady. He also didn't seem hurt beyond some minor scrapes. Vanessa heaved a sigh. She would have liked to drag him out of the water completely, but at the moment lacked the strength.

She surveyed the beach. The sand was soft and pale, the slope to the water was gentle, and in the distance she could see some tall trees. The storm appeared to finally be blowing its way out. The rain still fell, but there was very little wind, and the sky was a light gray instead of the foreboding slate color it had been in the last moments on the ship. The ship…

Vanessa glanced around again, more urgently. The Lady Swan was nowhere to be seen. The beach was deserted, and there was no sign that any human had been there recently, in any direction that she looked.

_Now what? _she thought. _O Lord, did you bring us here only to have us die slowly?_

She shifted again, and the thing digging into her leg throbbed. Frowning, she reached into her twisted skirts, realizing with dismay that most of them were so torn they were barely decent. Her fingers touched wood, and she froze. Delicately, she drew out her flute. She didn't even remember putting it in her pocket. Yet here it was, perfect, unbroken.

It had to be a good sign.

First she slid the flute back into her pocket. Then, shakily, she forced herself to her feet. The world spun and her muscles screamed. She staggered and collapsed back to the sand with a gasp. More slowly this time, she moved to a standing position, hoping in a childish way that perhaps she could fool her body upright without it noticing. This attempt was more successful, and she wobbled only a little.

A bit at a time, she turned in a slow circle, confirming once and for all that she and Edward were alone. There was nothing; no spot on the horizon that might be rescue, or even one of the boats that had escaped the Lady Swan's destruction. The rain had lessened into barely more than a mist, but though the visibility was better there was nothing to see.

Or was there? Abruptly something broke the water line off shore. It was an odd thing: a pale white-gray…something…in the shape of a triangular flag or sail. Vanessa couldn't begin to imagine what it might be. Curious, she splashed a few inches into the shallows to get a better look.

It wasn't a boat, or anything remotely resembling one. As it drew closer, she saw that it was attached to something of the same gray-white color that lurked under the water. It had to be a living animal of some sort, then, a fish perhaps. The thing drew even closer, and it hit Vanessa like a slap how large this triangular appendage was: it stood taller than she was high out of the water.

As if sensing that she was staring, the creature under the waves suddenly came closer to the surface, enough that she got a much better impression of what she was looking at.

Vanessa screamed and backed out of the water. Frantically, she bent and dragged her father as far from the waves as her tired muscles could manage before she collapsed again to the sand with a thump.

It was monstrous, terrible. She had never seen a fish like this. The fishes she knew were flat and shiny, with large, stupid eyes that stared sideways like innocent sheep. This fish had a pointed face like an anvil, a mouth full of razor teeth that each had to be larger than her hand, and a pair of forward-facing black eyes that observed her with a kind of cold interest. There was a predator's calculation behind those eyes. Worse yet, there came with that gaze a sense of awareness: this was clearly a creature that could _think_. Somehow this made it all the more horrible.

Her scream and the motion had roused Edward. He stirred and mumbled "Nessie?"

"Shhh, Papa," she whispered.

His eyes popped open, and focused on her face. "Nessie?" he said, louder.

"Papa, I don't—"

He tried to sit up, forcing her to put an arm around his shoulders and help him or risk watching him collapse. He looked around slowly. In a rough voice, he asked, "Where…are we?"

"I'm not sure, Papa. But there's—" She looked back at the ocean and stopped. The monster fish had vanished. Come to think of it, it had been in much shallower water than a creature of its apparent size could have managed without getting caught on the sand. It must have been a hallucination, then, perhaps resulting from too much seawater. She put a hand to her head.

"Are you well, daughter?" Edward asked, clearly concerned.

"I think so," she answered. "I thought I saw something out there just before you awoke. It's not there now. I must have imagined it."

"Perhaps you hit your head," Edward suggested. Moving slowly, he ran his fingers through her knotted hair, gently probing her skull. "No bumps. Do you have a headache?"

"I ache everywhere. My head no worse than anyplace else."

"I feel the same." He frowned, and rubbed his own head. "What was this thing like? A ship?"

"A creature. A great monstrous fish with enormous sharp teeth and…and terrible eyes."

Edward stroked his chin, peering out at the rippling water along with her. "How close did you say it was?"

"Just there." She pointed.

"I see nothing."

"It disappeared when you…" She trailed off. Something was coming out of the water. Something grayish-white.

"What—" Edward also stopped mid-sentence when he saw the direction she was looking. Vanessa couldn't keep her eyes off the water, but out of the corner of her vision she saw her father stiffen and his mouth drop open. Unconsciously she reached out and clutched him tight, and felt his arms slide protectively around her.

The thing now rising out of the low breakers was not, _could_ not be a thing of this world. It bore a marked resemblance to the enormous fish-creature, if it had attempted to transform into a human but failed three-quarters through the process. It was roughly human in shape, and the correct size, but the skin was the same ghastly shade of gray as the giant fish. It wore nothing like clothes and was thus clearly male. Vanessa had to force herself not to stare too long at _that._ But looking at its face was somehow worse. It had the same eyes as the fish-creature: black, and predatory, and glittering with intelligence. And it was this that gave her a sense of absolute certainty that that creature and this were one and the same.

She covered her eyes; couldn't bear to meet its gaze for one more second.

"Angels and ministers of Grace defend us…" she heard Edward whisper.

A voice, the creature's, answered. It was not at all what Vanessa had expected given its appearance: a pleasant mid-range tenor, perfectly normal for a man if she didn't know to what it belonged. There was even a slight trace of a French accent.

It said: "Quoting Hamlet will do you no good at all, I assure you, monsieur."

-0-0-

**Robin, 2017**

Robin blinked furiously. The moment the dome was out of the way, she demanded, "What the hell was _that_?"

Kyle didn't answer; he was tapping intensely on his keyboard. His eyes were narrowed to slits.

"I said, _what the hell was that_?" Robin strode over to stand next to him.

"Hold on!" he snapped. She scowled and waited a few irritated seconds while Kyle's fingers flew. At last, he looked up at her, and for a moment she was taken aback. His face was as white as she felt hers must be.

"I have no idea," he whispered. He looked over her shoulder, where an image of the half-shark half-man was frozen on the screen. "I thought somehow there might be data corruption, or maybe something had happened to alter Vanessa's memories, but…" He trailed off. "I just checked. There's nothing wrong with the memory, or the recording. This is what she saw."

"But…" Robin walked up to the screen, studying it intently. Separated from her as the image was, behind the glass, the raw horror she'd felt as Vanessa seeing it was also neatly tucked away. "But things like that don't exist. They _don't_. Not in real life."

"I wish I had another explanation," said Kyle. "And what about this?" She heard his fingers move, and the image of the man-shark was replaced by one of the enormous shark from earlier. Robin couldn't help taking a step back as she finally comprehended the sheer size of the thing. It had to be at least sixty feet long, with a mouth big enough to swallow a human whole.

She swallowed. "What about it?"

"I find it really suspicious that there were two strange shark-creatures here at the same time. I have no idea about the second one, but _this_ one is clearly a Megalodon, according to the Google search I just ran. Or something very like it."

"A what?"

"A giant prehistoric shark. Sharks used to be that big, did you know?"

"I wish I didn't, now," said Robin with a shudder.

Kyle grimaced in sympathy. "The problem is, Megalodons went extinct over a million years ago. They're not supposed to exist, either. Not now, and not during Vanessa's time."

"At least they once _existed_," Robin pointed out.

"True." More tapping on keys. "But my point is, this is an odd coincidence."

Robin drew a deep breath. "It's not a coincidence."

Kyle stopped typing. She could feel his gaze on the back of her neck. "You sound certain."

"Can you bring up side-by-side images of the two…creatures?"

"Sure. But not on that screen. I've got it directly hooked to the Animus. It can freeze frame, rewind and fast forward, but that's all unless I want to reset everything afterwards. Come over here."

By the time she reached him, he had two blown-up images of shark and shark-man next to each other on his own computer screen. As soon as she saw them both, she knew, just as Vanessa had once known. "They're the same."

"What?"

"They're the same…I don't know. Being. Entity. The giant shark changed into this half-shark guy. Look. They have the same eyes."

Kyle opened his mouth, clearly about to argue. He glanced at the pictures, and shut it again. He leaned forward, studying the two closely. Then he sat back. "I guess you're right." Pause. "But what does it mean? Neither of these things are supposed to exist, even separately."

"You're asking me?" Robin demanded. "I'm as confused as you are. Probably more."

Kyle sighed, and reached back to play with the ends of the hair tied at the nape of his neck. "I never expected to see anything like this when I signed on to this project."

"Do you think your dad knew?"

He looked at her sharply. "Wouldn't he have warned us if he knew about something as unusual as this?"

"Would he?"

"Of course he would. This sort of thing isn't easy to conceal. And I know him too well. I'd have noticed if he was lying."

"Did you ask?" Robin muttered under her breath, too low to hear. But she didn't pursue the issue. Kyle trusted his father far more than she did, and with good reason. Russell hadn't kidnapped _him._

Kyle replayed some of the footage from the last minutes of Vanessa's memories. They watched as the shark-man came out of the water, and Vanessa hid her eyes. They heard the voice, with its faint French accent, say, "Quoting Hamlet will do you no good at all, I assure you, monsieur."

"This just gets weirder and weirder," said Robin, "Not only does this thing sound completely human, he knows Shakespeare when he hears it."

"I was never that into literature."

"That's Hamlet. Her father's quoting from Act 1," said Robin, pleased to find _something_ Kyle didn't know more than her about. "That's the part where they're seeing the ghost of Hamlet's father."

"Hmmm." Kyle regarded her with what Robin might have sworn was a pinch of respect. "Well, this is a puzzle. With only one way to start solving it. Are you up for another round?"

* * *

_Author's Note: Do I even need to say I don't own Hamlet?_

_So, what do you think of this latest version of the Beast? We'll start getting explanations for all this weird stuff I've been introducing pretty soon._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	5. Leviathan

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean (Disney), or Assassin's Creed (Ubisoft). Wow, that's a lot of stuff I don't own._

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa couldn't tell if her shaking was from fear or because her muscles were tired from clutching her father tight. Still the thing she kept telling herself had to be an apparition would not go away.

Edward somehow found his voice; Vanessa could only guess this was because of the shock of hearing the creature speak, and intelligently to boot.

"What did you say?"

"Do I need to repeat myself?" asked the creature. When it spoke, Vanessa wished it were possible to shrink back even further. It had the giant fish's teeth: razor pointed and creamy white.

Edward shook his head mutely. This made the creature grin, exposing those teeth once more. "Good. I do so hate to say things a second time."

"What…are you?" Vanessa whispered.

"I am the Leviathan. I guard this place, and these shores. You two must leave at once, or risk angering me further."

"Gladly," replied Edward tremulously, "but how? Our ship has wrecked off your shore, as you must know, sir."

"Of course I know that," snapped the Leviathan. "I wrecked it myself. I thought everyone had gone in their boats, but then the two of you fell into my hands. But you shall soon be out of them. There is a boat hidden under a pair of coconut trees just that way." He indicated a place on the tree line far down the beach, but seemed reluctant to step out of the surf. "Well, go on," he said when they continued to stare at him dumbly.

It might have been his words, or perhaps the sight of his slightly bared teeth that prompted them both to move. Leaning heavily on each other, Edward and Vanessa dragged themselves toward the trees.

"Dare we believe this?" Edward muttered to her when they were well out of hearing range from the water's edge. "Or have we both gone mad together?"

"I-I don't know," Vanessa stuttered. "It feels as though this must all be a terrible dream, brought on by near-drowning." She paused long enough to pinch herself, hard. "I don't think that would hurt if I were dreaming."

Edward glanced back; Vanessa followed his gaze. The creature had vanished again, but Vanessa had the unpleasant sensation that there was something white lurking not far off shore.

"The Leviathan," Edward murmured. "Who would have thought it existed?"

"I always thought it was one of those old sailors' yarns that they make up to impress the maids when they come home, telling of sea monsters like the Kraken or ghost ships like the Flying Dutchman," admitted Vanessa.

"I'm not one to question the evidence of my eyes," said Edward. "I for one thought the Leviathan would be bigger." They had reached the treeline by this point and were walking along it, eyes scanning for anything that might be a boat.

"You were still knocked senseless when it first surfaced," Vanessa said with a shudder. "It was the length of a London street. Its fin alone stood higher than my head."

Edward's eyebrows shot up. "And I doubted that he could have wrecked the Lady Swan as effortlessly as he claimed."

"Oh, I _never_ doubted that." Vanessa shuddered again.

Edward gripped her arm. "Look!"

There were two palm trees, growing so close together that at the base they might have been one tree. Wedged between them was the prow of a small dinghy. "Here, help me."

Between the two of them, they managed to remove the dinghy from between the trees, but weak as they were they could get it no further. Leaning against one of the trees, Vanessa examined the boat more closely and made an unhappy discovery. "It looks as though it only has room for one person."

Edward tilted his head. He frowned. "Let us hope not. Perhaps...in sunlight it will look bigger." But he didn't sound very confident.

"Perhaps," agreed Vanessa. They dragged the dinghy a few more feet. The better they could see it, the worse it appeared. Not only was it small, but the wood it was made of looked dry and old; it just barely looked seaworthy. It would be lucky to hold one person and still float. Once it was completely in the light and they had both grasped the situation, they looked at each other in dismay.

"Well, my dear, what should we do about this?" asked Edward at length.

"We could tell it—him—that we'll have to wait to leave until we build a new boat that will carry both of us," suggested Vanessa quickly.

"Do you know how to build a boat better than this?"

They both looked at the dinghy again. Old and weatherbeaten it might be, but neither of them had any idea how to craft anything remotely similar. Edward knelt down and examined the carpentry more closely.

"Can't you…replicate it somehow, only larger?" Vanessa asked anxiously, watching him run his fingers over the grey boards. "With all your experience inventing, you should be able to do _something_. I'll help however I can, of course."

"Not necessary, child. Without any tools, neither of us can accomplish anything of this sort that might get us more than a few yards off shore." Edward sighed, and squinted up at her.

Vanessa drew a deep breath. "Then I'll stay here, Papa, and you go in this boat to bring help."

"No!" Edward stood up to his full height, which brought his face just level with hers. "No. I won't leave you here with that…" he lowered his voice, "…that _thing_ lurking about. It would not be safe."

"What choice do we have?" she demanded. "The only other one I see is for me to go off to look for help and you stay here. Any ship you might meet is far more likely to aid a lone man than a lone girl like me. I'll be far safer here."

"_Here_? With a great fanged creature in the water, waiting to swallow you whole at the least opportunity? No. I won't allow it. We'll stay here together."

"And how are we to be rescued, then? The Leviathan guards these shores, and seems to do well enough keeping ships away if his short work on the Lady Swan is any indication. And he won't allow us to stay here. He's made that abundantly clear."

She could see that he was weakening by the way his eyebrows were drawing closer and closer together. "I can't leave you alone," he insisted, but there was less force behind his voice. "It would not be safe," he repeated.

"I'll be far safer here, with the Leviathan to guard the shore, than I would be anywhere else," she reminded him, though the thought of actually seeing the creature again made her feel slightly ill.

"That's not what I meant, Nessie, and you know it! Your danger comes from _him_! What could he do to you without someone to protect you?"

"Nothing that he couldn't have already done. Remember, he said _he_ wrecked the Lady Swan. He could have simply killed us both right there, and saved himself the trouble." She knew these arguments were crazy, but she told herself that staying would be the lesser of two evils. Slightly lesser.

Edward deflated. "I don't know why I argue with you, daughter. You're too much like your mother; never could in an argument with her, either. Very well. I don't understand why you're so determined, but the more I think on it, the less I like the idea of you rowing out alone while I stay here. And one of us must go."

"That's how I see it. One thing remains now." She glanced out at the water. "We must tell _him_."

"Then I suppose we should get that out of the way." Vanessa could see her father swallow hard. He clearly didn't want to confront the creature any more than she did.

"We don't have to tell him right away," she said. "We should make certain you have what provisions you need for your journey."

Edward smiled at her and ruffled her tangled, salt-stiff hair. "Now that's using your head. Come on, let's see what we can find."

For the next hour or so they scoured the beach and the edge of the trees. They saw many things they didn't recognize and didn't dare touch, but in the end they had collected a good stock of coconuts and berries, as well as some broken shells for cutting things and several sturdy tree branches for sharpening into spears. They found a fresh stream and had a good long drink but could find no way of collecting the water to store in the boat. They saw no animals but birds in all their wanderings.

After loading the dinghy, they began the task of pushing it to the waterline. When this was done and the boat was just at the edge of the highest possible tide, they were exhausted and had to return to the stream again for more water.

The Leviathan was waiting, in his shape as a half-man, at their return. The sun was beginning to shine weakly through the clouds and sparkle on the water, and this made him, if possible, even more horrible to behold. The brighter sun only highlighted his sickly pale skin and picked out the tiny amount of stubble on his head that served him for hair. He was turned slightly to the side as they approached, so Vanessa could see that even human shaped he sported a stiff pointed fin on his back. She tried to keep her eyes on the boat and only watch him out of the corner of her eye.

"I see you are quite wise, for humans," he said when they were well within earshot, indicating their stacked provisions with a gesture. That articulate voice still startled, but with him mostly out of her line of vision she could pretend it came from a normal man.

"I hope we are not so foolish as to propose to set off into unknown waters without some preparation," replied Edward.

"You'd be surprised," the creature said with a twist of irony, making Vanessa briefly wonder how much other human foolishness he'd seen.

Father and daughter exchanged glances. This was not lost on the Leviathan, who immediately said, "A problem? Out with it."

Edward opened his mouth, and shut it. The Leviathan's black eyes narrowed, but he said nothing and waited. Edward tried again to speak, and failed again. Vanessa willed her father to say something, but soon it became clear he was tongue-tied. Staring fixedly at the sand so she wouldn't have to see the response, she burst out very fast, "Only one of us is going."

"Excuse me?"

Vanessa looked up, caught those black eyes, and down again quickly. That one look had silenced her. Taking pity on his daughter, who seemed to have suddenly become fascinated with the different shades of white in the sand, Edward said, "Only one of us can fit into this boat, you must see."

Silence. It stretched for several seconds; Vanessa didn't dare to glance up. What if he was angry, and forced them both to go anyway despite the unfitness of the vessel? They would surely drown.

"Very well," the Leviathan said slowly, as if he was displeased and trying not to show it. "I do see that. That being the case, I must insist that the lady stay behind."

Edward and Vanessa exchanged swift glances again; of course they'd already decided this but felt no need to let _him_ know that.

"There are conditions," the Leviathan continued. "Will you agree to them?"

Edward nudged Vanessa. "O-of course," she stammered. "I have no choice."

"True. But there must be conditions all the same. The first: you may go anywhere along this shore or inland that you like, but you must stay out of any caves you find. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Vanessa whispered.

"The second: you will not attempt to hail any passing vessel, or create a signal for one. Any ship that approaches I will have no choice but to destroy. Unless you want to cause unnecessary deaths, you will abide by this rule. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

"But—" started Edward.

"That being said," the Leviathan continued scathingly. Even looking at the sand Vanessa could feel his annoyance. Speaking to Edward, he went on, "When you have hailed a ship and come back to retrieve her, you must anchor just out of sight of shore and row a smaller boat the rest of the way. Just you, and only you, may be in this boat. Hang a small piece of white cloth off the bow, so that I can see it from the water and know who it is. Fail in these things, and I can make no guarantees about your survival or that of any of your companions. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Edward replied dully.

"Then you may go. Now."

Now? Vanessa felt her heart sinking. She hadn't considered never seeing her Papa again, but now that was a looming possibility. What if he never encountered another ship, and ran out of provisions? What if another storm came? What if he did meet a ship, but they refused to bring him back to find her? So many things could happen to him, and if one thing did, no one would know or care that she was here. She would be trapped…_forever_.

The same things seemed to be occurring to Edward. He caught her up in a tight embrace that crushed the air from her lungs, and she reciprocated, burying her head in his shoulder.

"Well? Go on," growled the Leviathan. "You should not miss the tide."

Vanessa only clung tighter. She was on the verge of begging her father not to go, but that would have done neither of them any good. She could only snuffle back her sudden flood of tears and try not to let him see that she was crying. She could think of no appropriate parting words.

"I'll return for you. I swear it," he whispered to her, and let her go. She couldn't bring herself to help him push off into the water, and anyway the Leviathan seemed to be having no trouble with that. He was clearly formidably strong, as even with Edward, the provisions, the weight of the boat itself, and the resistance of the sand he barely strained before the boat scooted forward into the lapping waves.

As soon as the depth was great enough Edward took up the oars and began to row. He waved one at her, and she raised a hand in response, wishing irrationally that she had a handkerchief to flutter. She wanted to call after him, to tell him she loved him, but with her agreement to stay in this desolate place she seemed to have lost her voice.

She stood watching until her father was a mere speck on the horizon, the setting sun behind her casting streams of gold over the entire scene. Then he was gone.

She was alone with the Leviathan.

* * *

_Author's Note: I hope you guys don't mind an all-Vanessa chapter. I don't want to limit myself to half-and-half chapters between Vanessa and Robin; as the story progresses you may see more of one or the other depending on whose story needs to move forward._

_Please don't send me any notes telling me the Leviathan is supposed to be a giant sea serpent—I've done my homework! If J.K. Rowling can adapt mythical creatures to suit her plot needs, then why can't I do the same? For those of you who are still sticklers, I'll try to clear up the anomaly in the next chapter. Hope you're enjoying!_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	6. Research

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean (Disney), or Assassin's Creed (Ubisoft). Wow, that's a lot of stuff I don't own._

**Robin, 2017**

"The Leviathan?" Robin said, peering over Kyle's shoulder. Her 'session' with the Animus was over for the day, and they were looking up a few things based on Vanessa's memories.

Kyle examined the search. "Let's see…most popular hits…a book by Thomas Hobbes."

"That's social theory," Robin pointed out.

"I went to high school." Kyle glared at her.

"Longer ago for you than for me," she shot back. He favored her with another glare, though this time not so fierce, and turned back to his computer.

"Here we go. Legendary sea monster. Usually depicted in serpent shape but can also refer to any large sea creature, most popularly Moby-Dick. In modern Hebrew the word means 'whale.'"

"That's close to a giant shark, isn't it?"

"Not if you get into strict animal taxonomy. But since it does refer to any huge sea monster, then the word can be applied to this…whatever it is Vanessa ran into." Kyle closed down the search.

"That's what _he_ calls himself, anyway. I'm certainly not going to argue with an enormous shark, and neither is she. Did that search of yours come up with anything else about the Leviathan that might be helpful?"

Kyle turned to face her, his expression grave. "That according to legend it was capable of devouring whole ships in its jaws."

Robin glanced at the shot of the giant shark that Vanessa had seen, which was still on Kyle's computer screen, and shuddered. "I have no trouble believing that. Did it say anything about the Leviathan guarding something, or always appearing in a specific place?"

He shook his head. "No. Nothing."

"So we're back to just finding stuff out through Vanessa. Great," Robin sighed, running her fingers through her hair. "Are you _sure_ your dad doesn't know about the Leviathan?"

"Pretty sure, but I can ask him next time he comes in if it will make you feel better," said Kyle with mild exasperation.

"I'll ask him if you don't want to," she said, flouncing towards dinner waiting on the conference table. Tonight it was pizza, she saw. "Boy, your dad really doesn't believe in wasting money on the prisoner."

"I have to eat it too, remember. And you should feel flattered. This is special pizza," said Kyle, seating himself and digging in with relish. "The pasta was too, you know."

"What was special about it?" asked Robin, rescuing a slice for herself and pouring a glass of water.

"Gluten free."

Robin paused, pizza halfway to her mouth. "What?"

"You didn't notice? I guess that's a good indication of how much gluten-free products have improved," chuckled Kyle around his mouthful. "When I was a kid, some of the stuff I had to eat was awful."

"I don't understand. What's gluten, and how do you free it?"

At this Kyle threw back his head and laughed. He laughed so long that Robin began to feel slightly insulted. Every time he calmed down enough to look at her face, he'd see the mulish expression there and start snickering again. At last Robin gave up on getting an answer and started in on her pizza. Now that she was paying attention to the flavor, there was indeed something different about the crust. Not really bad, just different than normal.

At last there was silence for a few seconds. Robin dared a look, and when Kyle seemed as though he were not going to burst out laughing again, she asked, "Are you done?"

"I think so." Kyle actually wiped a tear from his eye. "I just haven't heard it put that way before."

"So I assumed. Do I get an explanation now?"

"You still want one?"

She gave him a look that said, _Duh_. He shrugged, but said, "Gluten is a protein. It's in things like bread and pasta because they're wheat based, which is primarily where we get our gluten intake. Now, some people, like me, are ciliacs, which simply put means that our digestive systems can't break down gluten. I get sick if I eat anything with wheat in it. Hence the specially made pasta and pizza crust."

"Oh." Now Robin felt slightly stupid for her earlier question, though she couldn't quite forgive him for laughing at her. She sensed that he was still laughing silently, so she finished her share of the pizza in silence. Her mind was also presenting her with a long list of foods that she was fairly sure had wheat in them somewhere. It was quite a formidable list.

"Can't you get the doctors to do something about it?" she asked abruptly.

"About the gluten thing? No. Not yet. It's inherited, like those memories of yours—sorry, Vanessa's—that we've been watching. But I'm used to it by now. Of course, I try to donate some of my profits to doctors researching the disease." At her puzzled look, he said, "Oh, yes, I have my own business assets. I'm here as a private contractor, didn't you know?"

"But what about your dad? Doesn't he fund gluten research too?"

"No. He's got better things to spend his money on." The impassive Kyle was back. "You should get to bed. I'll see you in—"

The outside doors opened. Russell strolled in, humming. "Sorry I'm late. I was having dinner with some clients and lost track of the time."

"Good thing we didn't wait for you," Robin muttered. Kyle shot her a look.

"So, did you make any progress?" asked Russell, oblivious to this exchange.

"Do you know anything about the Leviathan?" demanded Robin before Kyle could open his mouth.

"The Leviathan?" Russell looked genuinely startled. "A giant sea serpent? Not really. Why do you ask, Miss Grey?"

"Well…Vanessa seems to have encountered something…"

Already Russell was laughing. "You're kidding me, right? You two have formed a little alliance already, decided to have some late-night fun with the gullible old man. Come on, I'm not that out of it. Kyle, I'm surprised at you. You know how important this project is to me, son."

"Dad…"

Russell's jovial mood vanished. "Kyle, stop it. I'm really not in the mood. I think I've already had too much to drink tonight at dinner, and now you start trying to pull crap like this—"

"We're not kidding, Mr. Carey," Robin said, crossing her arms. "Look at the footage we recorded if you don't believe us."

"I wish we were making this up," put in Kyle.

"Definitely," agreed Robin vehemently.

Russell just rolled his eyes, which were slightly bloodshot. "Kyle, please. I know you're more than capable of altering film footage. You were making computer animation worthy of Disney when you were twelve years old. They wanted to hire you full-time the minute you graduated high school, but you weren't allowed because of those idiotic child labor laws, remember?"

"But if you'll just look at it, you'll see," Kyle started, seemingly unaware that Robin was staring at him with her mouth open.

"No. The only way I'll look at it is if Miss Grey is actually plugged into the Animus and experiencing it for herself. I know you can't screw with the data that way."

"But Dad, I can't do that now," Kyle said quickly. "We're done for the day. The machine needs to cool down. You put her in now and you risk a burnout."

"You haven't been working twelve straight hours, have you?"

"No, the last session was only five. But I don't think she's ready for—"

"Then what's the problem? Actually, now that you bring it up I'd like to see this girl in action. Make sure you two haven't been slacking off the last couple of days. Even if you are making all this up about some sea monster, it's a good idea. Thank you for suggesting it. Come on, what are we waiting for?"

Robin felt at this point she ought to speak up. "Actually, sir, I am pretty tired. We can wait until tomorrow." This was true. Her eyelids had rapidly been getting heavier over the past fifteen minutes or so.

"No, I really must insist, Miss Grey."

She could see that any argument would only make him more stubborn, but she couldn't help trying. "But—"

A hand took her elbow, hard, and led her to the Animus. She tried to yank free, but Kyle had a stronger grip than she'd anticipated. "Don't fight it. Dad's too stubborn, and you've got his back against the wall. You should have let me handle it."

"You'd never have asked him!" she accused.

"Not while you were around. You don't know how he works the way I do."

Robin clenched her teeth. She wanted so badly to get out of this, somehow, and it was completely unfair of Kyle to blame her for the whole mess. But she did realize that if she refused, she would only be forced into it. The iron grip on her elbow was an irresistible force. Like so much else about this situation, she had no choice. It was driving her insane. She'd gone so far to order her own life and not have it dictated. She had gone along with the whole crazy Animus project until now out of pragmatism and a rising interest in Vanessa, but Kyle's talk about his father's stubbornness had aroused her own stubborn streak. She was very rapidly beginning to resent being pushed around.

Obedient to the hand on her arm, she got onto the metal bed and lay down, but inside she was still seething. And tired. All she really wanted to do was sleep.

The clear dome went up over her head. The familiar blue mist appeared, taking her with it as it swept into the past.

-0-0-

_A tiny speck on the horizon is all that's left of her father's boat._

_Vanessa is alone with only the Leviathan, of all things, for company. Possibly forever._

_She sinks to the ground, trying to hold in the burning sensation around her eyes that says tears are gathering._

_It's all too much. She sobs her heartbreak._

_Everything wavers, but it's impossible to tell whether this is due to Vanessa's tears or something else, until random blue code begins to flash across the scene._

_A hand touches Vanessa's shoulder._

-0-0-

"Robin? Robin, answer me."

A male voice was calling her name. A hand was on her shoulder, shaking it gently. She didn't want to answer; though she knew exactly to whom it belonged. She just wanted to be left alone.

The voice spoke again, very softly: "Rob?"

_That _roused her. And fueled her temper. She didn't want him calling her that name. Only she gave permission for people to call her Rob.

She sat up so quickly she almost whacked heads with Kyle, who had been bending over her. "_Don't_ call me that," she hissed, sliding off the table as she spoke.

"Are you OK?" he asked. She barely noticed how white he looked.

"Fine. I'm fine." He knees buckled, but she caught herself against the table and held the cold steel between palms and fingers in a death grip.

"You're not fine. What happened? I know it's not the machine, and five hours isn't too long, especially after a break. You fought, didn't you?"

"So what if I did?" she snapped. "I don't want to do this anymore. I'm sick of you people ordering me around. I want to go home."

"You could have _died_," Kyle said, his voice low and intense.

"So what? You don't care. You'd just lose your little lab rat. Both of you." she looked for Russell, but he wasn't there.

"He left the second we started to have problems. Said he'd come back tomorrow when we stopped being silly," said Kyle.

This only served to make her more angry. The perturbed tone of his voice was lost on her, though if she'd paid attention it might have made her feel better.

"You leave me alone," she snarled. Releasing her hold on the table, she staggered into the tiny room set up for her and collapsed onto the bed. At least Kyle had had the sense not to try to help her.

Just before she fell asleep, she thought: _I've had enough. I'm getting out of here. Tomorrow._

* * *

_Author's Note: So now we have a Robin chapter. I am very much enjoying this dynamic between Robin and Kyle, exacerbated by Russell. This story is moving really fast, I know, but I could only slow it down by adding details I don't really think I need._

_In case you're wondering, no, I'm not a ciliac but I've spent enough time around them to know how it goes with them. The explanation Kyle gives is accurate._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	7. Snake

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates, or Assassin's Creed. Lots of stuff I don't own and wish I did._

**Robin, 2017**

Robin didn't sleep well that night. She kept going through her plan in her mind. It was insane, and the chances were very high it would fail dismally, but she was determined she would not be kept here against her will another night.

Her watch alarm sounded at 7AM. She had found the watch in question under her bed from where it had fallen after someone had removed it while she was still unconscious. Why, she couldn't begin to guess, but she was grateful for the oversight of leaving it behind. Otherwise she would never have been able to make certain she was awake before anyone came in the warehouse.

"This is nuts," she reminded herself, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Nuts it might be, but there was no going back now. She positioned herself right next to the door to the outside.

The wait began. Every time she heard even the slightest noise, she would tense and get ready to spring. But then nothing would happen, and she'd have to settle down and wait some more. Only the thought of tasting fresh air in freedom kept her from going back to bed.

And then what? She'd have to quit her much-loved job as a trainer of marine wildlife and move off St. Croix if she wanted to keep Russell and his resources from finding her. Heck, at this point she'd even consider creating a false identity, given she'd have one of the world's greatest mechanical minds tracking her in Kyle Carey. It would take a lot of trouble to foil him, but it might be worth it just knowing she'd been able to frustrate both of these men who thought they could order her around.

A click outside the door. Real this time and definitely not her imagination. She took a deep breath through her nose.

The door swung open. Robin saw enough of the figure for her brain to register that it was Kyle before she shoved him roughly out of the way. The door began to slide shut, but she was already through it. Turning, she found the keypad and bashed it as hard as she could with the heel of her hand, twice. It stung like crazy, but the shower of sparks was reassuring. Techno-wizard boy would have his work cut out for him to get around that.

She could feel a bubble of laughter forcing its way up from her stomach region, but she had to get thoroughly away before she could let it out. She turned and surveyed her surroundings. She was in a hallway with several branchings-off. Down one of them, the second on the right, she could see daylight.

Robin set off with a determined air, not quite running but quicker than powerwalking. Something caught her eye down the first corridor she passed, however: a room of TV screens. She paused to peer at them; then choked on a laugh. In one of them she could see Kyle frantically tapping on the keypad by the door, back in the room with the Animus.

Entertaining as it was, there was no time to stay to watch. She continued down the hall at a faster clip than before. Around the corner, and there it was: the door to the outside. It was mostly glass, so she could see that there was only a keypad on the outside. That was fine. She didn't plan to try to get back in. She pushed open the door and stepped outside.

It was a relief to discover that she was still on St. Croix. They might have taken her anywhere in the world while she'd been unconscious. But St. Croix was a small island, and as a local rather than a tourist she knew a good bit of it. Enough to recognize the view that now confronted her; though much higher than she was used to. She'd never been to this particular part of the island, but she was fairly certain, now, how to get back to the part she did know.

Glancing back once at the door, she saw that she had indeed been held in a converted warehouse, with additions branching off to many sides. "Looks like a major operation," she muttered to herself as she started away down the hill. "Glad I'm not part of it anymore." The laughter bubbled higher.

Down the mountain she started, holding in her giggles as hard as she could. She knew she wasn't away yet, but she couldn't help it. The elation of escape and the consternation it would cause made her giddy until she was practically skipping.

It was luck she saw the snake before she stepped on it. As it was, she was well within striking range by the time she spotted the danger and skidded to a halt. Her laughter immediately fizzled away like dry ice in tropical sun.

They sized each other up. She didn't recognize the variety of snake, which was bad enough. She knew, as all locals did when they were reassuring tourists, that there were no native poisonous snakes. This snake was a dull, non-tropical brown; it was clearly not native. Possibly somebody's pet that had gotten loose somehow. Oh, not good. Worse yet, she'd forgotten how much she hated snakes; she'd avoided them successfully for years. Fear had now paralyzed her to the spot.

The snake was obviously getting over the shock of her appearance in favor of growing more and more irritated. It coiled up tight and hissed at her. The message of this gesture was clear: _Get out of my territory!_ As if her life couldn't get any worse, when it hissed Robin saw two pointed fangs pop down against a white background. Who in their right mind keeps a pet _cottonmouth_, let alone lets it get away?

Much as she wanted to obey the snake's command and run as far and as fast as she could, she couldn't force her frozen muscles to move. In an uncomfortable moment, she saw a flash from Vanessa's perspective confronted with the leering Captain Kerry. And like Vanessa, all she could do was pray for aid from an angel.

The snake hissed again. Robin shuddered and stumbled back. She tripped and fell over a root, becoming even more of a target and likely pushing the snake past the breaking point. She shut her eyes and looked away, waiting for the pain to tell her that her life was likely over.

"Look out!"

Something knocked into her legs, pushing them out of the way just as the snake struck. It bit Kyle's leg instead, fangs sinking through his black jeans.

Robin screamed. Kyle yelled in pain and pulled the snake off him, flinging it away into the trees. Then he looked down at her. His face was even paler than usual, he was covered in sweat, and his eyes were huge. "Are you OK?"

Robin found her voice. "Am _I _OK? It got you!"

"I'll be all right if you do exactly what I say." His voice was strangely calm for someone who had just been bitten by a poisonous snake. "Can you do that?"

Robin gulped and nodded.

"Good. Now, can you get my shirt off?"

"W-what?"

"You're wasting time!" he snapped. "I need you to splint my leg with a tree branch, and you need the shirt to tie it on. If I do it, the poison will spread faster."

Much as she wanted to turn and run, Robin found she couldn't just abandon him. Casting around frantically, she saw a thin branch that might do. She seized it and balanced it against his leg, then stopped. She really didn't want to take his shirt off, but what choice did she have? The other options were his jeans, or her own shirt or shorts, none of which she relished the thought of removing.

Moving carefully and trying to minimize the amount he had to help her, she took off his t-shirt. His skin was very white underneath it; clearly he didn't spend much time outside. Briskly she tore the shirt into strips and bound the stick to his leg at his direction.

"Now what?" she demanded when he was done.

"There's a med staff back at headquarters." He jerked his head back up the mountain.

This was her last chance. If she helped him back, she'd become a prisoner again, and they wouldn't let her escape twice. But at the very least, she owed Kyle now. If it hadn't been for him, it would have been her with those two round punctures on her leg.

"Come on. I'll help you," she growled, sounding sulkier than she meant to. She seized his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders. Taking as much of his weight as she felt she could stand, they started up the hill together.

"How did you know what to do?" she asked a few minutes later. They were taking a rest, both for him and for her. "Just another one of your many interests?"

"Actually…I learned it from a computer game. One of those adventure scenarios where your character is on a trip and stuff randomly happens, then the game lets you decide what to do about it."

"You learned from a _computer game_?" Robin repeated, dumbfounded.

"Didn't you ever play Oregon Trail as a kid? Took me a couple tries to figure out the right order of treating a snakebite and keep my character from dying." He winced and looked down at his leg.

Just what she needed. A reminder that this was a real life-and-death situation. "We should get going."

"Right."

The next time they stopped she asked, "How was it you were so close behind me? I saw you on the monitor screen, and you were still stuck in the room trying to open the door."

He grinned, dashing some sweat from his face. "That's because that's what I wanted you to see. I triggered an alert, and the monitors switched to a pre-prepared loop I made for just such an occasion."

"To lull me into a false sense of security if I ever escaped." She folded her arms. "I really should just leave you here, you manipulative bas—"

He held up a hand. "Insult me later, please. My leg hurts too much to come up with a good response."

That shut her up, though she continued to fume off and on as they made their way up the mountain. Annoyed as she was with Kyle, Robin found she couldn't be too angry. In fact, it was a good thing he _had_ come after her as fast as he did. She resolved immediately that she would never tell him she thought so. And she knew she hadn't really meant her suggestion that she leave him in the middle of the forest.

By the time they reached the converted warehouse an hour later, Robin's feelings about Kyle had changed to nothing but worry. She was practically carrying him and trying to go quickly, but hauling him up the mountain had exhausted her and it was all she could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Russell was just coming out the glass front door as Robin staggered out of the treeline. He yelled inside, then came up to her with hands on hips. "What happened?"

"Snakebite," she gasped out. "Loose cottonmouth."

Russell swore viciously, then seemed to disappear into a mass of people dressed in white. They took Kyle from Robin, assured her that he'd be fine in their care, and helped her into the warehouse. Robin glanced back as the door clicked shut behind her, then had to concentrate on staying awake as what seemed like a million people questioned her. Where had all these people come from? She'd always assumed that it was just her and Kyle out in the middle of nowhere, and Russell when he found the time to join them.

When she started to babble and repeat herself, they allowed her to go to bed. Not in her tiny bedroom, but in a larger room that vaguely reminded her of a hospital, complete with beds shaped more like gurneys and curtains to draw around for privacy. The curtains were shut around the only other bed in the room and people were conversing in low voices behind it, so she assumed that was where Kyle had been taken. She felt another stab of worry. She'd hate for something really serious to happen to him when it was all her fault. Kyle annoyed her; he was often unapproachable and arrogant, but he didn't seem to be as bad a person as she'd first thought.

She dreamed of sitting alone on a beach, watching a boat disappear and crying her eyes out for someone she'd lost. Someone she knew she should care very deeply about, but as Robin Grey she didn't know at all.


	8. Healing Waters

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates, or Assassin's Creed. Lots of stuff I don't own and wish I did._

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa watched her father's boat vanish across the horizon. She sank to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. He was gone. The person whom she loved most in the world, the only family she had left. She was alone on this desolate shore with only the Leviathan for company.

A hand touched her shoulder. It was light, and surprisingly hesitant, but it was the last straw for Vanessa. Her body still remembered all the unwanted touches of the past years: the pinches, the squeezes, the slaps, the gentle hand on her arm that always meant something less gentle. To be touched now, by _him_, was too horrible to be endured. She jerked away with a hoarse gasp of fear.

Immediately the hand withdrew. Vanessa scrambled to her feet, her voice found again with the gasp. Tears still sliding down her face, she wailed, "I'll never see him again. And I didn't say goodbye!"

She turned and ran blindly up the beach, towards the trees.

-0-0-

**Robin, 2017**

"Miss Grey?"

Robin opened her eyes. The dry, puffy feeling around her eyes told her immediately that she'd been crying in her sleep. A woman in a nurse's uniform was bending over her.

"Are you all right, Miss Grey?"

"Yeah. I think so." Robin wiped at her eyes. "Nightmare."

"Understandable, after a day like yesterday. Here, your breakfast came in a few minutes ago."

Robin ate the toast and eggs and sipped the orange juice gratefully. The food cleared her head, and afterwards she was even allowed to take a shower and brush her teeth. The hot water felt amazing, and even putting her dirty clothes back on didn't do much to dampen her mood. She discovered that she was horribly stiff, which reminded her of something.

"How's Kyle?" she asked the nurse when she came out of the bathroom.

"He's all right, considering." The nurse shot a glance at the drawn curtains around the other bed. "You got him back in plenty of time, but we had to be extra careful because of his difficulty processing gluten."

"Can…can I visit him?" Robin asked.

"I think he's still asleep, but I can't see the harm," the nurse shrugged. She held back the curtain for Robin to duck under.

Kyle was indeed asleep in the half-upright hospital bed, his long dark hair a mess against the white pillow. With a day-old shadow of beard on his utterly relaxed face, he looked somehow older, and younger, than she was used to seeing him. She pulled up a stool.

It didn't take more than a minute for her to feel immensely stupid. Kyle clearly wasn't going to wake up anytime soon; even if he was, she wasn't sure she wanted to be there when he did. Watching someone sleep without their knowledge or permission was a trick _he_ might pull.

She stood resolutely. The force of her resolution was such that she knocked over the stool, which hit the tile floor with a clatter.

Kyle's eyes popped open. They took a moment to focus on her face, but when they did, he smiled without a trace of his usual irony. She felt her face return the smile out of instinct and not because she'd ordered her muscles to do so.

"Um, hi," she faltered.

"Hi," he replied, still smiling at the corners of his mouth.

"Sorry about that." She bent and picked up the stool. "How…how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been sleeping too much," he grumbled. He hitched himself further up against the pillow. "How are you?"

"Fine. I was just tired."

An awkward silence descended. Robin really didn't want to bring up the previous day's escapade, but there seemed to be nothing else to talk about. "Does your leg hurt?" she finally ventured.

"Not too much. It just feels like something bit me, nothing more than that." He shifted around under the blankets to poke his leg out. She could see a small white bandage, but that was all.

"It doesn't look too bad."

"Could be worse." He shrugged, then raised himself up a little higher. "Listen, I did want to say thank you."

"Thank _me_?" she repeated, her voice rising unbearably high to her ears.

"Yeah. For bringing me back here."

Him and his smarts. He knew that sticking with him rather than seeking her own freedom had been a tougher decision than she would have liked to admit. What was impossible to tell, as usual, were his motives. Was he simply needling at her abortive escape attempt under the mask of being nice, or was he really offering a truce?

He seemed to sense her inner conflict. "No hostile intentions, I promise. But you did save my life, and I feel I at least should offer thanks for that."

"You saved mine," she reminded him haltingly. "That snake should have bitten me. I guess…thank you, too."

"Don't mention it. We're even, anyway." He seemed to hesitate, then added, "There is one thing I think I'd like from you in return."

"What?"

"I'd like you to trust me."

Taken aback, Robin thought about it. "Trust isn't something I can just _give_ like that. But I can try."

"Thank you. It may make our sessions with the Animus go easier, if you trust me to take care of you while you're inside."

"I guess so." She didn't really want to trust him after his hand in kidnapping her, but found she couldn't help it. Whatever his motives, he'd saved her from the snake and in the process gotten bitten himself, which said a lot more than verbal reassurances how far he'd go to prevent something from happening to her.

She stood up. "I should go."

"All right." He grinned, as if enjoying a private joke. "I'll see you tomorrow, ready to work."

Kyle was as good as his word. The next morning the nurse declared him in good enough health to go back to the lab in the warehouse, though he was still limping a little from the bite on his leg. Robin, on a generous impulse, offered him her shoulder to lean on and he surprisingly took her up on it. They made their way down the hall slowly to the warehouse, which hadn't changed at all since she'd last seen it. She almost wished it had. That would mean she'd managed to get away for longer.

"Back again," said Kyle cheerfully, as if reading her mind. Robin made sure he saw her eye roll.

She left him running diagnostics on his computers to grab him a rolling chair from the conference table. This was per the nurse's orders; she had only released Kyle for work today because Russell had insisted via satellite TV, and she would only allow it if he were sitting down while Robin was in the Animus.

Despite this, Kyle still insisted on helping her up onto the metal bed before taking his seat.

"Comfy?" asked Robin when he'd finally found a position that satisfied him.

"Not really," he replied with a slight wince. "Are you?"

"Just start it up."

"As you wish." She heard his fingers moving.

-0-0-

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa was conscious of nothing but blinding panic. She had to get away, that was all she knew. The Leviathan was only a symbol, a physical manifestation of all that was haunting her. If she could escape him then she could also escape her other pain and loss as well.

She ran. Part of her brain did notice when she started stumbling over tree roots and branches, but it didn't slow her down very much. At last her tattered skirt snagged and sent her sprawling. She lay for a long moment, hearing her own breath roaring like ocean surf in her ears. Then she forced herself to sit up. The gash in her skirt reached past her knees and a shallow cut on her leg followed its line. She sucked in her breath through her teeth to keep from making any noise of pain.

There was a convenient rock nearby. She eased herself onto it. When she was able to look at her surroundings, she saw nothing threatening, so she elected to stay a few moments more. The rock she was perched on sat at the mouth of a small cave, fronted by a truly lovely tropical forest. Vanessa had never seen plants of such a marvelous emerald hue. Small colorful birds hopped from branch to branch making high-pitched whistling noises. It was as if they were wondering what to make of her, having never seen a human before in their lives.

Viewing such a peaceful scene, it was hard to believe in the reality of something as monstrous and unnatural as the Leviathan. Listening to the chirping of the birds and watching the branches swaying in the breeze, he, or it, could easily be only a leftover nightmare.

"But if that were true," Vanessa admitted to the birds, "Then I should be back on the Lady Swan now wondering what to do about that man Kerry. At least I have been spared _that_ dreadful task."

These thoughts made her feel slightly better. Things could be worse. At least here there were no men to trouble her.

A light breeze ruffled her hair, causing her to look around at her surroundings in more detail. The light had changed; it was now a rusty red speckled with bits of gold. The sun must be going down, and it would be dark soon. Vanessa didn't particularly relish the idea of sleeping out in the open, especially if it started to rain again. She did remember her promise to the Leviathan to stay out of any caves she found, but surely it wouldn't hurt if she just spent the night at the cave mouth. It would certainly be safer to do so.

Vanessa tried to make herself a fire, but though there was plenty of downed wood left over from the storm it was all damp. Resigning herself to a night without light, she curled up under as much of her skirt as she could and found a nice moss-covered rock for a pillow. At least the tropical air still brushing her skin wasn't too cold. She had spent nights in less comfort in England, where it was often icy to the point of being bone-trembling in the winter.

The last thing she heard as she fell asleep was the soothing sound of falling water.

-0-0-

_Light blue mist, pierced with glowing computer code, gently pervades the darkness of sleep._

_A pleasant, mechanical-sounding female voice speaks._

"_Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

_Faint noises like fingers on a keyboard punctuated by occasional synthesized beeps._

_The mist clears again._

-0-0-

Vanessa knew it was very early when she awoke. The sunlight was still faint, but it was still bright enough against her eyelids to prevent her from returning to her vaguely troubled dreams.

She sat up with a groan of pain. If anything, she was even stiffer now than she had been when she'd gone to sleep. Every muscle screamed its agony, interrupted here and there with the even sharper ache of scrapes or bruises. Moving was painful, but it was almost worse to sit still.

Tears leaking from her eyes and using the cave wall, Vanessa stood. She prayed silently as she did so, an endless litany: _God, help me, please. God, please help. Oh, God, it hurts…_

Eventually she stood upright. Her breath came in gasps, and she felt as if she'd just completed all twelve of Hercules' labors to get so far. Walking would likely be even worse. Twelve labors per step.

Something occurred to her. Just as her awareness had drifted away, she recalled hearing running water. Perhaps there was a stream nearby. To soothe her aches in cool, fresh water! The idea of it filled her mind and propelled her forward.

A preliminary search of the area near the cave revealed no signs of any running water. She staggered as far as she dared from the cave mouth, stopping to listen every so often for that welcome gurgling noise. Returning to the rock where she'd rested the previous evening, she closed her eyes and listened carefully again. There it was. The sound was unmistakable now. The stream must be inside the cave somewhere.

Fixed on the image of splashing water, her ears chiming with its echoic sound, she made her way inside. With luck, the cave wouldn't be very deep.

It was larger than she expected. Just as the light was fading completely behind her and Vanessa was preparing to turn around, however, a new, faint light bloomed ahead. With every step, the sound of water grew louder and drew her further in with its music. The closer she got, as well, the better she felt. It was strange how the mere sound of the water eased her muscles and even took away some of the fire of her cuts and scrapes.

She rounded a sharp corner, and stopped dead. Her mouth dropped open.

Before her was what might as well have been a natural open courtyard. It was perfectly round, and open to the light above through a high tunnel that made its access impossible from above. And in the center…

It was a fountain. There was nothing else to call it, though it was like no fountain Vanessa had ever seen in that it was not made by human hands. A natural geyser spurted from the very center of a strange formation of grey rock shaped into three tiers. The water streamed down the sides of these tiers into a rippling pool of crystal-clear water. Where the water went after that it was impossible to tell, for there was no natural outlet that Vanessa could see after she'd circled the marvel entirely. For a moment she wondered if it was a hallucination, a miracle brought on by her longing for water.

Cautiously, she approached the edge of the pool. There was no reason for her to be nervous, for she could see nothing moving but the water, yet for some reason she was still tense and watchful. She leaned over and peered in.

The water of the pool seemed black, and there was no visible bottom. What she could see, however, was her reflection on the surface, and it startled her on several levels.

At first glance, she looked as she always did: a young woman with long brown hair and a sharp chin and cheekbones. That alone surprised the observing presence in the back of her mind that Vanessa Swift was unaware of. A closer inspection revealed why Vanessa herself was startled. She was far paler than she was used to, and also noticeably thinner. The hardships of the journey from England were etched on her face. In ragged clothes, with wild salt-encrusted hair and a hopeless, desperate look in the deep blue eyes that her father said reminded him of a summer night's sky, she looked like a beggar from the London dockside. What Captain Kerry or any other man might see in her now, she couldn't begin to imagine.

She peered closer. Something was moving against the blackness, disrupting her reflection.

* * *

_Author's Note: Those of you who have seen Pirates of the Caribbean 3 and were still awake at the end (ha ha) will probably guess what it is Vanessa's looking at. And those who know Beauty and the Beast will also guess what's coming next._

_I plan to have more Vanessa and less Robin for the next couple of chapters, since I feel like I haven't spent enough time getting to know her. Hope you're all enjoying, and sorry this took so long to put out. My job is keeping me very busy with very little time to write.  
_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	9. The Black Pearl

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. Oh, and I don't own the song "Yo Ho, a Pirate's Life for Me," either._

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa peered closer to the rippling water. The thing was white, she could see that much, and it was rapidly growing larger. Then everything clicked and she realized what it was she was seeing. She lurched back with a gasp.

Water surged up from the fountain around the white body lunging out of it. It was the Leviathan, but his form had changed again. Now he—it—was a much smaller version of its enormous pale fish, but still longer than Vanessa was tall. Vanessa herself was soaked, her rags plastering themselves instantly to her skin.

By the time she had wiped the water from her eyes he had made the change to his mostly human form, standing before her. His mouth was open in a terrible snarl. For the first few seconds, at least. His opaque eyes flickered, up and down, taking in her wet and cowering form, and he seemed to soften just the littlest bit. Or perhaps that was only her imagination.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded roughly, pointed teeth flashing. "Did I not tell you to stay out of any cave you found?"

All of Vanessa's terror had come rushing back to her at the sight of his snarl and she couldn't force her mouth to work. Her lips moved, her tongue twitched, but nothing came out. Finally, she managed a small noise. "Ah—" She eyed his teeth, and tried again. "I…"

The terrible eyes flickered again. Only later would Vanessa's brain register what she _thought_ she'd seen there: humor. "How did you come to be here?" he asked. Then, as if sensing her fear of his teeth, he closed his mouth immediately afterwards. But it was clear he would wait as much time as need be for her answer.

"I did not mean…"

"Did not mean what?" he prompted when she fell silent again.

But that was too much for her. She whimpered and took a sideways step away from him. He lunged forward, arm out to yank her away, and she shrank away even more earnestly at the sight of him preparing to touch her again. What she didn't realize until too late was that her foot had hit a slippery edge of the fountain. With a shriek she toppled into the water.

A force pulled her downward. No matter how she struggled the light got further and further away. She twisted and fought, but it was useless. There was no more light.

-0-0-

_The calm woman's voice speaks again._

_"Fast forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

_Gentle blue mist, computer code._

_It clears to more rolling blue._

-0-0-

Vanessa opened her eyes to light, and wet, and cold. For the second time in as many days, she coughed and spat out water until there was none left in her lungs. It was only then that she noticed where she was: in the middle of the ocean. The little island was nowhere in sight. Only rolling blue waves in every direction. Her first reaction was relief. The next was panic.

How had she gotten here? She remembered the fountain, the Leviathan, and falling into the water well enough. She remembered being pulled down into the darkness. Why wasn't she dead, drowned in the endless depths of that strange stone geyser? Had she really traveled so far that the island was no longer in sight? Where was she, then? And for that matter, how was she still afloat?

A slight pressure at her back made her spin clumsily, her arms windmilling and feet kicking frantically. When she saw the grey back, she thought it was the Leviathan again, and began to thrash some more. Then she saw that it was much too dark a grey, and far too small to be _him_, though it was in the same shape.

The back, with its proudly curved fin, different from the Leviathan's cruel razor blade, sank out of sight. A moment later, the face belonging to the body surfaced to look Vanessa in the eye. It had a long, pointed nose and sharp teeth, not unlike the great fish she feared, but its eyes were too far backswept. Less predatory. There was a distinct glint of mischief present that was totally absent from the Leviathan's cold eyes as well.

"Greetings," Vanessa whispered. "Was it you who saved me?"

A high-pitched chatter like laughter was her answer. She took it to mean yes.

"Thank you." She reached forward to brush her fingers across the creature's smooth grey skin. It permitted this for but a few moments, then chattered again and sank from sight.

"Wait!" Vanessa cried, her voice a hoarse croak, but her mysterious friend did not return. Kicking frantically, she just managed to stay afloat as wave after wave smacked her face. Wiping salt from her eyes, she thought she saw a black shape before her. The next time she looked, she was certain. The shape was a ship, a large one, and it was headed straight for her. How it came to be there, she didn't care. It was her one chance at escape.

With all her strength she yelled and splashed. Her reward was faint shouts in return and a slight altering of the ship's course so it wouldn't go over her. As it drew closer, she saw human shapes on deck pointing at her in the water. She noted the cracked and weatherbeaten figurehead: a winged woman holding a dove aloft as if in prayer.

A man came scaling down the side as the ship pulled close. He was a rough-looking fellow with skin marked by sun and scars and a leer she didn't like. Vanessa would have shrunk from him, but how else was she to get aboard? She took the offered arm, and he pulled her close.

"I've got'er, gents!" he bellowed. "Haul us up!"

Shouts from above. Up the side they went, bouncing against the rough wood the whole way. Looking up, Vanessa could see the ship's sails. They were not the usual white; instead they were sun-bleached grey that had once been black. She also noted something she had not seen earlier: the black flag flying from the mast with a white skull upon it.

Pirates. She was now the captive of pirates.

Another thump against the ship's side brought her face-to-face with its name, lovingly painted on the sea-battered wood.

The words read: Black Pearl.

-0-0-

**Robin, 2017**

The transition back to herself was much more peaceful than it had been in previous sessions, Robin thought. There was no jolt, no sudden realization. She just blinked as Vanessa Swift and opened her eyes to Robin Grey.

Kyle sat in his rolling chair a few feet away. He was still focused on his computer screen, but when she sat up he looked at her.

"Vanessa can't catch a break, can she?" asked Robin as she slid down from the Animus table. "Constant harassment, a shipwreck, mythical monsters, losing her father, and now this?"

"I told you we thought she ran into pirates at some point," Kyle replied, looking back at his screen. Robin came around to look at what he'd recorded. He glanced at her, then quickly pushed a few buttons. She had enough time to see an image of the fountain in the cave before the screen went dark.

_So that's what they're looking for. Vanessa--and I--knew there must be something special about it._ She didn't comment, but stored that thought away for later.

Dinner was laid out on the table, as usual. Tonight it was tacos.

"I did notice one thing," Robin commented several minutes into the silent meal.

"Hmmm?" said Kyle through a mouthful of meat.

"Vanessa looks just like me. I finally saw her face in the reflection in the fountain. She's thinner, but if her hair were shorter and she had the highlights," here Robin tugged at one of her own short strands, "and pierced nose and ears, we could be the same person."

Kyle swallowed his food. "She's probably thinner because we have much more nutrients in our food today. And you _are_ descended from her."

"But it's a weird coincidence, don't you think?"

"Mm-hm." Clearly this was an uninteresting train of thought for him. Annoyed again, Robin finished eating without another word. She spent a restless night, seeing over and over again the black sails approaching on the horizon, the carved figurehead constantly hit with spray so that she seemed to be weeping as she held her dove aloft. A small girl's voice—her own, perhaps?—sang in her ears:

"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot.

Drink up me hearties, yo-ho.

We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot.

Drink up me hearties, yo-ho…"

The song was still going through her head all morning, despite her attempts to think of other things. She barely heard Kyle, thought she knew he spoke to her and she somehow answered. It was the last thing she heard as the blue mist of the Animus closed around her.

-0-0-

**Vanessa**

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me!

We extort, we pilfer, we filch, and sack.

Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho.

Maraud and embezzle, and even highjack.

Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho!"

The first thing Vanessa heard as she set her bare feet on the Black Pearl was some of the crew singing cheerfully in the rigging. Their good humor seemed very much out of place given how dreadful in appearance they all were. Wild hair and sunburned skin, scars everywhere imaginable, and tattoos everywhere else. Some were even missing eyes, or worse, arms or legs.

A man in a feathered cap stomped down from the forecastle. He looked just as dreadful as his men, though his clothes were of better quality and he carried himself with an air of authority. From this she gathered that he must be the captain of this formidable vessel. He gave her a leer, showing strong yellowed teeth.

"Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, Miss…"

Vanessa was disinclined to give her name, but there was no alternative and she could think of no quick lie to tell. "Swift, sir. Vanessa Swift."

"Miss Swift, then. I am Captain Barbossa, and these lazy dogs," he shot a glare at the men who'd gathered around to gawk, "be my ill-mannered crew."

Immediately, most of the men found excuses to be elsewhere. Those who hadn't got the hint were tugged away by their brighter neighbors.

Barbossa grinned again. "And how does a lovely maid such as yourself come to be so far out at sea, if ye don't mind me askin'? There be no land about for leagues. Here ye scaberous sea rats," he bellowed suddenly, "can a blanket be found for the lady?"

One of the men brought forward a slightly stained wool blanket, which Captain Barbossa himself draped over her shoulders.

"I was shipwrecked, sir. In the storm two nights past."

"Ah, yes." Barbossa smiled, as if reminiscing. "That would break up a ship of weaker beams than the Pearl. But she's weathered worse in her time and always come about." He patted the rail fondly. "Were ye the only survivor?"

"I couldn't say, sir. The rest of the crew and passengers escaped in the boats."

"Leavin' ye behind? Hardly chivalrous." Barbossa raised a thick eyebrow.

"My father had gone below to fetch things from the hold," Vanessa admitted. "I refused my place on the boat to follow him." She rubbed her arm, remembering Captain Kerry's grip.

"Ah. Noble of ye, girl. So ye've been out here alone for two days, then? Ye'll pardon this, but ye don't look mad. And what of yer father? Should we be keepin' an eye on the horizon for him as well?"

"No."

"No?"

"We landed on an island together. There was a boat for one, and he left to find help." She wasn't about to mention the Leviathan. Then she _would _sound mad.

"And island, then?" Suddenly Barbossa was looming over her. "Whereabouts, would ye say?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered. "I thought it must be close by, but when I fell into the fountain—"

Two hard hands gripped her shoulders, and Vanessa was forced to stare the man straight in the eye. She struggled, but could not escape his hold. "What know ye of the Fountain?" he demanded. She heard the capital letter in the word.

Vanessa could only shake her head, tears of fright streaming down her face.

"Sworn to secrecy, are ye? We'll soon disabuse ye of that. Gents," he called to two passing crewmen, "Lock'er in the brig, till she's ready to talk. She knows of the Fountain, and refuses to divulge."

It seemed as if the entire crew was glaring at her now. Whimpering with terror, she was dragged to the bowels of the ship, where the floors were damp with seawater and terrible smells drifted in the air, to a corner built like a cage. There was a dark figure, vaguely man-sized, in the shadows inside. A soft crooning song came from him, and as they approached Vanessa heard the last few words, to a familiar tune:

"…and really bad eggs.

Drink up, me hearties, yo-ho…"

"It seems ye've got some company, _Captain_," snarled one of Vanessa's escorts as he unlocked the door and hurled her inside.

"Ah, good. And here I was getting' so lonely down in the bowels all by me onesy," returned the prisoner as casually as if they were sitting around a supper table. Vanessa scrabbled away from him on her hands and knees until she was wedged into a corner.

"This is company?" the man called after the crewmen's retreating backs, "You brought me a _mouse_. Rum would have been preferred to keep me warm!"

The second of the two crewmen simply spat at the cage and climbed the ladder without a word.

After a few moments of silence, the man in the corner said, "Rest easy now, mouse. We'll be deprived of their pleasant company for a few days." He paused, and when Vanessa didn't move, he chuckled. "Not one to trust a dishonest pirate, then. Clever little thing, you are."

He moved enough that she could see him in the dim light from the ladder. He was a tall man, dark and swarthy, with hair that had been braided into many separate locks for so long a time the locks were matted. These hung from beneath a dirty red headcloth decorated here and there with coins and trinkets. He wore filthy pirates' clothing, and Vanessa would quickly learn he was fond of making extravagant gestures as he spoke that caused his loose sleeves to flutter constantly. Last of all she noticed he had a short beard that was also braided into small strands and hung with beads. He was right; she didn't trust him at all, but she also couldn't help liking the casually cheerful attitude he seemed to display towards everything.

"Captain Jack Sparrow," he said with a deeply flourished bow. "Perhaps you've heard of me?" She shook her head. "Ah, well." Another pause. Then, "You've a name, Miss Mouse?"

"V-Vanessa Swift," she managed, as it seemed he expected an answer.

"A pleasure. So," he settled himself to the floor with his back against the wall, "now that we're all sorted on formalities, what're you in for?"

"Captain Barbossa," at her words, Sparrow made a face, "wants me to tell him about the Fountain. But I—" She stopped, for she could see that her companion had come alert.

"What do you know of the Fountain?" he asked, echoing Barbossa.

"Hardly anything. What do _you _know of it?"

He sat back. "So the mouse's got teeth. The Fountain, which you know more than nothing about, is the Fountain of Youth. The very one which every Spaniard for years now has spent his last breath searching for, and quite a few people who are not Spaniards. Barbossa and his miscreant crew are in possession of a maddeningly unhelpful set of charts showing where it lies, ones that they _borrowed_ off me onesy without permission, savvy?"

"You mean they stole it from you?"

"Knew you were a smart mouse. One of several things they've removed from my care over the years." Jack put a hand on the part of the wall that was the Black Pearl's timbers.

This explained quite a bit more than it didn't. Despite the crew's apparent scorn and his current position in the brig, Jack Sparrow had once been captain of the Black Pearl.

Suddenly the ship shivered, and echoes of shouts filtered down the ladder hole.

"Oh, bugger," muttered Sparrow, leaping to his feet.

"What was that?" Vanessa quavered.

"Nothing good, mousey. I can promise you that."

* * *

_Author's Note: At last, the Pearl, Barbossa, and Jack have made an appearance! And you doubted me._

_I do want to make one small point. Though the Beauty and the Beast part seems to just be with Vanessa in the past, this story is just as much Robin's as hers and we'll probably be spending equal amounts of time with each of them when it all averages out. Just a small warning so nobody feels like I'm having trouble staying focused on the "real" story or anything like that. It's all to a purpose._

_Thanks!_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	10. Devil Angel

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Vanessa, 1767**

More shuddering rocked the ship. Vanessa noticed that Jack Sparrow had braced himself in a corner, and followed his example. Distantly, they heard shots fired, and then the deeper boom of a single cannon.

Jack was muttering to himself, and occasionally Vanessa caught a word here or there. "Hold steady…starboard guns…send the monkey…"

It didn't make much sense, and she feared for a moment he'd gone mad. Then he said, perfectly clearly, "I don't suppose you have anything useful hidden in that dress of yours in case the opportunity to escape presents itself?"

"I beg your pardon?" asked Vanessa coldly.

"Thought not, but I had to ask."

The shots from above ceased. Then a terrible, booming voice echoed through the water, a voice so deep it shook the ship's timbers. Try as she might, Vanessa could not quite work out what was being said. But she guessed who—or what—the voice might belong to, and her heart gave a strange leap. Why would _he_ be here? Surely not for her. He would be pleased that she had left his island at last. How would he know she needed…

Her thoughts were interrupted by pounding boots. Down came another member of the crew she did not recognize.

"You're to come wiv'me, Miss Swift," he said hastily, unlocking the cell. "The Captain's wanting you on deck."

Without turning around, Vanessa could feel Jack's presence behind her. "Perhaps I should accompany the lady. For her own safety."

He fell silent as the other man cocked a loaded pistol in his face. "Shuddup," the man snarled, unnecessarily, "You stay where you are, Jack Sparr'a."

"Captain. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow," Jack muttered, but he let the man remove Vanessa from the brig without further protest. Vanessa would, in fact, have been somewhat grateful for his presence, if only to give her courage with his own bravado. She threw him a frightened look over her shoulder, but he flicked his eyes at the gun still trained at his head, then shrugged.

The brig door was slammed and latched, and Vanessa dragged towards the ladder. Just as she was climbing it, she heard Jack shout, "We're not finished, Miss Mouse!"

Vanessa doubted she would ever see him again, but she was denied the chance to answer in any case. She was hustled up the ladder, and then two flights of stairs towards the deck.

"What's going on?" she ventured.

The man didn't answer, but in the better light she saw that he was white under his tan. Whatever it was, and she was more and more certain she knew, it was something to frighten even a hardened pirate.

"Ah, thar she be," she heard Barbossa's voice say as she emerged into the sunlight. After the darkness of the hold, she could see little beyond a few shapes that might be more crew members rushing about. The Black Pearl itself seemed to be lurching violently in all directions. If Vanessa hadn't still been somewhat used to the rocking of the Lady Swan in storm, she might have been sick at the constant tilting.

A dark shape loomed over her, and she vaguely made out Barbossa's features.

"What's going on?" she asked again. "What do you want with me?"

"Unfortunately for you, miss, it's not what I want with ye. It's what _he_ wants," the man said, leading her over to the side. Her vision had adjusted enough that she could see the enormous white shape of the Leviathan circling the Black Pearl without cease. It was the wake of his bulk that was causing the ship to rock so.

A strange emotion tugged at Vanessa's chest. It seemed he _had_ come for her after all. Looking closer, she saw something else. Following close in the Leviathan's wake were several smaller creatures similar to the one who had left her just before the Black Pearl appeared. So that was how he knew. He must be able to communicate with sea animals. They had gone to tell him of her trouble, and he had come…to save her?

Struggling to keep the unbidden smile from her face, she quavered "What is that…that _thing_?" To her own ears, she sounded quite convincing. It was not difficult to feign terror upon seeing the Leviathan, even if she knew—hoped—he was not there to harm her.

Barbossa did not answer. It was one of the other crewman, a thin fellow with a missing eye, who whispered "The Leviathan. The Devourer. Legends say it's a giant, immortal shark that swallows whole ships into its jaws, sailors and all. When it's feeling peckish, at least. But no one ever sees it unless it's out…hunting." He exchanged glances with another crewman, a shorter balding man, then both clutched their weapons tighter with looks of horror on their faces.

"Bah," said Barbossa, not troubling to keep his voice down. "We've faced worse, haven't we, gents? There's not a monster living as can take the Pearl for long. But," here he turned to Vanessa, "the creature's been demanding you, Miss Swift. Just that, and he says he'll leave us in peace. Have you seen the thing before?"

"N-no," she stammered, hoping he wouldn't see her lie.

"Then how could the beast know of you?"

"I d-don't know."

"Maybe he's hungry for the taste of fresh maiden. Don't see them too often in these parts," offered one of the crew, to a few ribald, if weak, chuckles. Vanessa's stomach churned, and she prayed she was not wrong about the Leviathan's intentions towards her.

"So I see two choices before me," said Barbossa, not really addressing any of them but seemingly thinking aloud. "Either I give him what he wants and Miss Swift sleeps with the fishes, so to speak. Or, I decide our little find is too precious a commodity to give up. She knows of the Fountain. And there hasn't been a monster yet the Pearl couldn't outlast if it came to that." Graciously, he turned to Vanessa. "Miss Swift, what would ye prefer?"

Vanessa opened and closed her mouth. If she said she preferred to go to the Leviathan, he would know she had lied and there was some connection between them. What frightened girl willingly would go to her death to save a crew of pirates who had held her in the brig? And yet, if she said she preferred to stay, he might take her at her word. That would surely lead to a fight, and despite Barbossa's boasts the Pearl did not look as though she could sustain the damage the Leviathan could inflict. There was nothing she could say.

Barbossa must have seen the panic in her eyes, because he chuckled. "It's quite all right, Miss Swift. It so happens I'll take the decision out of your hands. I'm not just ready to give up a prize such as ye, I simply brought ye here to see what connection there might be between ye and the creature. Lock'er back in the brig!" he commanded the man who still held Vanessa's arm. "For the rest of ye scurvy dogs, all hands to the guns!"

"Aye, Captain!" they roared back, though Vanessa could see many of them still looked nervous. Then a hand yanked her arms so viciously that she cried out in pain.

There was a roar from the water that made even the air tremble. Several men gathered on one side of the deck to fire their smaller muskets at the water. The rest had sprung to load the cannons. Chaos was everywhere as the entire ship prepared for war.

Another sharp yank brought Vanessa stumbling to her knees just as the ship rocked even more violently than before. In the moment of surprise at this unexpected motion she felt her captor's hands loosen. With sudden decision she yanked away and sprinted for the side of the ship.

She had half-climbed the rail before she got a glimpse of the water. It was churning and boiling at the Leviathan's wrath—and then he came into view. That huge, wickedly pointed fin; the massive white shape beneath the surface.

She hesitated.

Too long. Her captor had not been far behind to begin with, and her pause was all he needed. She felt his hands start to grab her around the waist to pull her back into captivity.

"Help!" she screamed.

She saw a black glitter amidst a white background: the Leviathan's eye, breaking the waterline and seeing her there at the rail straining against someone. With a deft flick of his tail, he propelled himself almost sideways into the ship.

The Black Pearl lurched; her timbers groaned with the force. Vanessa's captor slipped in his grip on her and fell back to the deck. Vanessa herself lost her balance and pitched headfirst into the water with a shriek.

The shock of impact stunned her for a few moments. When her head cleared and she realized where she was, instinct took over. She began to thrash, but she wasn't sure which way was up and which was down anymore.

Flashing gray bodies surrounded her. They buoyed her up to the surface with an accompanying chorus of squeaks and clicks that sounded very loud in the water. When she had wiped the water from her eyes, she found herself inches from a massive, pointed white nose. Flinging herself backwards with a cry of terror, she inhaled water and had to spend a few seconds choking on it. When she could see again what was in front of her was the tall pointed fin. It sat without moving while Vanessa stared.

Explosions went off overhead, and bullets began splashing around them. A fierce, beaklike nose—one of the grey creatures—shoved Vanessa hard in the small of her back, forcing her to clutch the fin or have her own nose be driven into it. Immediately, the Leviathan began swimming, slowly and in such a way that his fin stayed above water so she could hold on without too much trouble.

From her vantage point she could see several small wounds trailing red blood against the Leviathan's bright white flesh. Of course. He was too large to have avoided all their fire.

She looked ahead, and blinked. A familiar shoreline stretched before her: the Leviathan's shore. Blinking again, she looked back. The Black Pearl still loomed against the horizon with men swarming like ants on her deck and rigging. How could she not have seen the land from its deck? She had never been that far from it all along.

There was a muffled boom and a puff of smoke from the Pearl. Vanessa watched the ball start to fall, straight at them.

"Look out!" she screamed.

The Leviathan twisted, nearly dislodging her, so that he could see the danger. He flipped in the water so that she found herself clutching his fin upside down, underwater and completely disoriented. She did not understand what had taken place until there was a concussion in the water above her.

A terrible scream shook her to her bones.

_Oh, God!_ By some miracle, she fought her way to the surface.

The massive form of the Leviathan was gone from beside her. In its place was his half-man form, floating helplessly on the ocean surface, black eyes shut. He was even whiter than usual, and blood was flowing from an enormous gash in his shoulder. It was so deep that when the water washed away the blood for a moment or two she could see more white that looked like bone. He was also covered with many tiny scratches as if he had been rolling in particularly rough sand.

Vanessa looked about her frantically. They were surrounded by the flashing gray forms of the Leviathan's companions, who were nudging them both. There were cheers echoing across the water from the Black Pearl, which she could only assume meant they thought they had made their kill. Reasonable, as their large target had vanished from sight. She could no longer see land anywhere near, but she had to do something. She seized her injured companion's good arm.

The island shimmered into view again like a mirage coming in to focus. Vanessa shook her head. Magic. Or some sort of devilry. She had never quite believed the tales that spoke of magic and monsters, but she could no longer ignore the evidence of her eyes. There was something at work here in the Caribbean that was not part of the world she knew, but there was no time to dwell on her wonderment.

She looked at the gray creatures. "Can—can you get us to shore?" she ventured. One of them made a motion disturbingly like a nod—learned from the Leviathan perhaps?—and within moments Vanessa found herself clutching one of them as they sped to land.

Sooner than she would have believed possible Vanessa was dragging the half-man half-shark onto shore. He began to tremble violently when he was completely out of the water, however, so she was forced to move him back so that his webbed feet were in the surf.

She examined his wound; but really had no idea what to do with it. She was a good sick nurse from years of experience with her mother but wounds were something else altogether.

There was some sand rimming it from her efforts to get him on shore, so she took salt water in her cupped hands and poured it over the area.

He screamed when she did that. Vanessa barely restrained herself from leaping backwards at the sight of his teeth. This time she ran off to the stream to collect some water from that, but could not return without it dripping from her hands. Growling under her breath in frustration, she looked around for something to use. Spying a coconut that had been split open in its fall from a nearby tree and dried in the sun, she seized it. It easily filled with water. The Leviathan did not object to her treatment of his wound with water fetched this way.

Once the wound was clean she wondered what to do. Blood was still flowing freely, and she did know that loosing so much was bad. Her dress, filthy wreck that it was, was all she had.

The dress was so pitifully thin and damaged it was easy to tear part of it into strips. As she tore, she noticed the scratch on her leg from the previous day. Or what had been the scratch. If the tear in her skirt had not been there, she would never have known she had been hurt. She ran her finger along where it should have been with a frown. Then she took up her first strip and reached for the Leviathan's arm.

A pale hand grabbed her wrist.

"Stop."

* * *

_Author's Note: I've been on a writing kick recently, and surprisingly had some free time to do it. This last chapter was tough to write because I saw what I wanted in my head but had trouble describing it. How well did I do?_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	11. The Fountain of Youth

_Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Beauty and the Beast, Assassin's Creed, or Pirates of the Caribbean. I wish._

**Vanessa, 1767**

"Wait?" Vanessa repeated, looking down into those black eyes. There was a dull sheen over them that alarmed her.

"Water…from the Fountain…"

"The Fountain?" she said nervously. "But—"

"Please…"

Hearing something so pitiful, from a countenance so terrifying, stopped her cold. His head fell back and his eyes closed. And in that moment, as his face relaxed, for the first time she lost all fear of him. He was totally in her power; she could leave him to die if she so chose. But he'd come to save her from the pirates. At the very least she owed him this small favor in return. Especially if it might save his life.

Taking up her coconut, she sprinted into the forest. She had no idea where she was going, but it seemed as though the cave found her: she had only been in the full shade of the trees a minute or two when she recognized the entrance. She hesitated, then plunged inside.

In a moment she stood beside the Fountain. Again, she hesitated. Why would the Leviathan want this specific water? He hadn't cried out at the respectably clean water from the stream. But then…

Vanessa glanced down at her leg, now exposed by her much shorter skirt. The leg that should be cut, but somehow wasn't…after she had fallen into the Fountain. She felt her eyes grow round. This might be the Fountain of Youth, as Jack Sparrow had said, but it must be more than that. The water must also have powerful healing properties.

"And here I am wasting time!" she scolded herself. Swiftly she knelt and dipped the coconut, filling it with sparkling water from the bottomless pool. Then she turned and ran out of the cave.

She was about halfway there when she realized the coconut was about twice as heavy as it should be. Glancing down, she saw that the once dried-out husk was now ripe again and full of white, firm meat. Luckily it still had space to hold the Fountain's water. She didn't dare stop to examine it further, but her amazement at the water's power grew.

The Leviathan was lying where she had left him, feet fully in the water as the tide crawled up. His condition had not improved, but he did not appear to have grown any worse, either. He stirred when she put a hand on his good shoulder.

"I have it," she whispered. "I have the water." Gently she poured it over the still-bleeding gash.

An anxious moment passed. Then a soft light started to radiate from the wound. It flashed brightly, once, and when Vanessa's vision cleared the white-grey flesh was whole and healed. Perhaps it looked a little pinker than the rest of his skin, but surely that couldn't be too bad a thing.

Another moment, and his eyes were opening, free of that disturbing glaze, and seemed focused on her face truly.

"You are safe," he whispered, surprisingly. "I was afraid—"

"I brought the water," she said weakly, showing him the coconut with some water still in it.

"Thank you."

There was a pause, then both of them began, "How did you know—"

She smiled, until she saw his smile in return that showed a bit too much of his teeth. Despite the fact that she knew now that he would not hurt her the sight of them was still enough to stem any humor in her.

He winced, then sat up. "What was it you were going to say?"

"Only—" she stopped, thought about how to say this, then began again. "How did you know to…how did you know I needed help?"

He nodded at the sea. "The dolphins." _Dolphins_, she thought, picturing their lithe gray forms. He continued, "They came and told me you had been taken by pirates. I must confess, I was happy to have you gone, but after some contemplation I felt somewhat responsible for your situation. Forgive me if I am too blunt," he hastened to say, misreading the look of surprise on her face.

"No, it wasn't that. It was only…you went to such trouble. You were nearly killed, all for someone you would rather be rid of."

"As I said, mam'zelle, I felt responsible for you. Your trouble was partially my fault. Though if you had not gone into the cave as you swore not to you might have spared yourself the experience."

"I—" Vanessa glared. "I did not _mean_ to disobey. It was raining, and I needed a place to sleep…"

"And decided a little exploration was in order?"

"No! I was thirsty when I woke up. I was looking for a stream, and I heard the Fountain."

He frowned. "How do you know about that? I can hear in your voice you know its proper name."

"The pirates. Their Captain, Barbossa, has a map that shows where it is. Jack Sparrow is their prisoner; he told me it was the Fountain of Youth they were looking for with a map they stole from him."

His frown deepened, enough that furrows appeared in the smooth skin of his forehead. "I have heard of them both, mostly by reputation. Neither are men to be trusted with such secrets, but the ship is long gone by now. And I cannot leave this place to seek it."

"Why not?"

He sighed, and went to run a hand over his nonexistent hair as if in thought. The gesture somehow made him seem much more like an ordinary man. "I think this is best not explained here. Find me by the Fountain." He stood and slipped into the water so quickly she barely saw the splash. She was greatly surprised. For a creature who freely admitted to not wanting her on his island, he seemed suddenly eager to divulge secrets.

He was waiting as promised, chin resting on his arms as he floated comfortably at the Fountain's edge. He gestured for her to take a seat.

"Why did we have to come here to talk about why you cannot leave the island?" she asked when she was settled.

"It all comes back to the Fountain." He sighed. "Everything seems to, in the end. I hope you are comfortable. This could take some time to tell."

She nodded, and he tilted his head in thought. "I suppose this all began years ago, when I decided to run away from my home." He grinned at her startled expression, though carefully so as not to expose the ends of his teeth. "Ah, mam'zelle, I have not always been this way. I was once as human as you are."

Vanessa knew she shouldn't have been surprised to hear this; he was so human in every way but his appearance, but she felt her mouth fall open much further than propriety demanded.

He was gracious enough not to comment, and waited for her to remember herself and prompt, "You ran away?"

"Yes. My parents were of a certain amount of wealth back in France, but I never enjoyed my privilege. From my earliest days my dreams were with the sea. I read so many stories of adventure and danger, and I always imagined I was living them myself. So at twelve years of age I ran away and signed on to an English merchant vessel as a cabin boy. It was not everything I dreamed; in fact it was miserable at first. Hours of doing the meanest tasks was not something my upbringing had prepared me for. But I eventually grew used to it, as well as the abuse that was my lot as a Frenchman and the lowest ranking member of the crew. It might have continued that way were it not for the storm, when I was fourteen." He nodded at the look in her eyes. "Yes, like yours. My ship was lost with all hands, but for me. I was left clinging to a piece of wood, certain that I was soon to drown like my shipmates.

"I was about to give myself up for lost when a vision appeared before me. A woman, with skin like sable, hair wild as the spray, and a smile cold like the ocean deeps. Though I thought she was nothing more than a hallucination, I begged her to save me.

"Her smile grew, as if that was precisely what she wanted to hear. She told me that if I agreed to serve her then she would be pleased to save my life.

"I had no time to think. I agreed.

"Her smile grew, and she stretched out her hand. "Seal the deal, then." I took it, and immediately knew I had been tricked. I felt her power flow into me as she pulled me forward out of the water.

"The next thing I knew, we were on this island. My clothes were gone, but I looked just as I always did. "What have you done to me?" I demanded.

"You have been chosen to perform a task for me, child," she said. She spoke as the natives of the Caribbean do, but I cannot imitate it. I can only tell you what she said as I understood it.

""What task?" I asked.

""This is the resting place of a secret of mine. The Fountain of Youth. As I am sure you know, there are many men who would give their very souls to find it. I find myself in need of a new guardian of my secret. You have agreed to serve me; thus the task falls to you, my Leviathan."

""Leviathan? I am no sea monster," I said.

"Her smile grew even colder. "By serving me, you may become that monster whenever you wish. I merely require of you that you use the power to protect this place from any humans that venture near here. You have the help of any of the sea creatures, my subjects, should you need to call upon them. I might also add that you may not want to use the power overmuch. The effects may alter that handsome face of yours.""

The Leviathan halted in his story and looked away. Vanessa took the opportunity to study his profile. Handsome? She could see traces of the man he might be in the finely sculpted cheekbones and strong nose, but the unnatural color of his skin coupled with those empty black eyes still sent shivers up her spine. She could not see any way to look past them.

He looked back at her. "She was right, of course. Nearly a decade of being the Leviathan has slowly made me forget what it is to be human. I belong more to the world of the sea now than to yours."

"Is there any way to…go back?" the words were out before she could stop them, but she was curious.

"To being human? The conditions of my service to the Sea Goddess dictate that I have ten years to find something to tie me permanently to the human world with an unshakable bond. Failing that, I become the Leviathan forever." His mouth quirked slightly. "At least until I am slain. A Leviathan cannot die of old age."

She wasn't sure how to interpret this. "So you have passed your ten years, then?"

"Not yet. But soon."

"How long have you been here?"

His lips moved silently, calculating for a few seconds, before he answered, "Eight years, I think. No, perhaps closer to nine. But why would I want to go back? I am surely dead to my parents. My seamates perished in that storm. I have no one. I barely remember standing on land anymore. There's nothing in the human world for me. And immortality isn't too terrible of a prospect, after all. It is what most of the men who seek this Fountain are dreaming of."

"I suppose." Vanessa stared at the flickering water patterns on the stone walls. Very low, she said, "But I imagine it might be lonely."

She glanced quickly at him, but if he had heard her, he gave no sign. He, too, seemed lost in contemplation. At last, she said, "And what of the Fountain?"

"What of it?"

"Is it really the Fountain of Youth?"

"It is if you drink it. The water works as a sort of restorative, giving back health that was lost. If you pour it on a wound, as you did on mine, then the flesh will be healed. If a gravely ill person but dips a finger into it, their sickness will be cured. Once tasted, however, it conveys everlasting youth to the drinker. Of course that is the reason that most seek this place. In all the time I have been here, I have never seen any come here for the sake of another." He made a small noise of disgust. "Humans are quite predictable, if you've seen enough of their greed as I have."

Another silence. Vanessa finally screwed up her courage and asked, "Why did you tell me any of this?"

He tilted his head at her. "You already knew about the Fountain. I simply wanted to make certain you understood the consequences of drinking this water." He splashed his hand around in it to emphasize the point.

"And the rest of it?"

"I suppose that was my way of giving you a roundabouted introduction. Since it appears you may be spending an unspecified amount of time here, you should know a few things about your host." He smiled, and this time she was fairly certain of the humor in his eyes.

She smiled back. Though she usually regretted bold comments, she was unable to restrain a slightly pert reply. Something about his manner seemed to invite it. "You left out something."

"Really? Enlighten me."

"Introductions usually begin with a name."

"A name?" His forehead wrinkled again, and she could see he was truly puzzled.

"I presume you had one once? As you yourself admitted you haven't always been the Leviathan."

"Oh, that." Now he looked thoughtful. "You're quite right. I had forgotten. My etiquette tutor would be appalled." He paused, then shrugged ever so slightly. "I was once called Adam. Adam du Gris."

"Adam sounds English." It was out before she could stop herself.

"As I recall, my mother's father was English; he died when my mother was a child. I was named for him." He put his head on his folded hands at the edge of the Fountain, and stared at her intently.

"What's the matter?"

"Was it not you who was just reminding me of the custom of giving names at the beginning of acquaintance?"

"Oh." She flushed. "My name is Vanessa. Vanessa Swift." She dipped him a curtsy.

"A pleasure, Mademoiselle Swift."

"Likewise," Vanessa responded automatically. He smiled again, so widely that she had to look away or shudder at his teeth.

"Vanessa is a lovely name," he said quickly. "It suits you."

"Thank you." She didn't dare look at him again.

* * *

_Author's Note: So now we know the Leviathan's, or rather Adam's, story. He is in a situation similar in nature to that of the Captain of the Flying Dutchman: bound to serve Calypso for her own purposes, though I think she added the clause about him having ten years to get out of it only after seeing what happened with Elizabeth and Will Turner (which was before Adam fell into her hands; this is taking place almost ten years after the end of Pirates III). Just a little bit of background information you might not have seen otherwise. Hope you're enjoying!_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	12. Special Effects

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. I do own the brain that is shamelessly mashing them all together._

**Robin, 2017**

"That's the longest session yet," said Kyle. "How do you feel?"

"Not even a headache," answered Robin, taking another sip of water from her Styrofoam cup. They were eating at the conference table again. Even the song that had been plaguing her since before her last session was finally gone from her head. She still knew every word, but she could concentrate without hearing it in her ears constantly.

"What about you? How's your leg?"

"Still hurts a little, but another day off it and I should be fine." A short pause. "This is turning into quite a story," he remarked, stirring his yogurt around its bowl with his plastic spoon. "I would never have believed it had I not set up this machinery myself."

"Why? Because as a man of science and fact you didn't believe in magic and that kind of thing?"

He shot her a glare. "As a man of science and fact I am open to possibility but believe in hard evidence. Until today I didn't have any on the whole 'magic and that kind of thing' question. I do now."

"And?"

"I have to admit it. Unless there is some other logical explanation I'm overlooking, magic exists." He grinned at her. "Tell me you don't feel the same."

"I wanted to believe in fantasy, especially when I was younger. Fairies and winged horses and happy endings and all that. This kind of magic seems much more sinister than the sweet dreams and roses variety. I mean, yes, the Leviathan—Adam, I guess—he can't die and he can turn into a giant shark, but the physical effects are pretty gruesome. And it would be pretty hard to get out of the job, from the way he explained it."

"True." Kyle put his chin on one fist and regarded her thoughtfully. "Don't you believe in happy endings anymore?"

Such a strange question, thought Robin, disarmed by his casual tone. "Not really. You sort of lose your illusions about how you want life to be when you have to hide from your own parents and end up getting kidnapped just when you think you're safe."

He ignored the jibe. "Isn't that always what happens in a fairy tale? The hero ends up in the last place he—or she—would want to be before getting out in the knick of time?"

"This isn't a fairy tale," she pointed out, but she smiled nevertheless at the idea that he thought her heroic.

"Vanessa, your ancestress, is certainly living in one. Doesn't that mean you get a piece of the fairy tale, too?"

"You've been staring at that computer screen too long," said Robin. "It's making you come up with all kinds of crazy ideas."

He put on a wounded look. "Anything but that. You're a hard person to crack open, Robin Grey." His brow furrowed for a second, as if an idea had just occurred to him. Whatever it was, he chose to keep it to himself.

"Is something wrong?" Robin couldn't help asking.

"No. I'm just thinking how Dad's going to take all this."

"He's going to think we made it up. Again."

"No kidding," sighed Kyle. He brought his other hand up to hold his chin so that he now looked quite depressed, and tired. "Though I think he'll be pleased with our progress, I believe the only real way to convince him we haven't turned this into one enormous childish prank is to let him watch a session. And I know you won't like that."

"I definitely don't like the idea of him hovering over me while my mind is someplace else," admitted Robin. She was slightly touched that he would risk his father's anger to make her more comfortable. She had noted the mention of 'progress,' which added more to her suspicions that it was indeed the Fountain of Youth the Careys were after.

"I'll try to keep him away as long as possible, but he's going to want a status report at the very least quite soon. He'll come blustering back from Port-au-Prince or wherever he happens to be as soon as he sees it. Just a heads-up."

"Thanks for the warning."

He checked his digital watch, which her experienced eye told her had all sorts of geeky features such as a button that if pushed would tell you the current time in Tokyo, Sydney, Mumbai, Paris, or just about any other major city. Useless, in her opinion, but some people liked to know that kind of thing. "It's not that late," he said. "Are you tired?"

"Not really." It was true, too. In the past, sessions with the Animus had left her almost too exhausted to think, but by this point even after a long session she felt as she would at the end of a full day of work at the sea life center, nothing more.

"I…" For the first time, he seemed hesitant. "I have some movie files I managed to smuggle in with my equipment. Maybe…do you want to look through them?"

"Movie files?" Robin repeated. She was completely thrown. Where had the cynical genius he'd been in the past gone? Tonight he sounded almost like an ordinary guy…trying to impress a girl. _That _was an uncomfortable thought. She shoved it aside. Robin Grey the independent woman didn't get involved with anyone. Too risky some jilted guy would take information on her whereabouts back to her parents.

Kyle seemed to take her silence on the subject as a 'not really.' "Or I have a few things I made myself, back when I thought I was going to work in computer animation…" he trailed off.

"You were twelve, your dad said," Robin pointed out.

"Some of it is from when I was twelve. I kept working on things even after the career path didn't pan out. It's good therapy, you know? Doing something creative with your talents. At least according to those lame self-help books Mom always—" He stopped.

"Your mom?" It occurred to Robin she'd never wondered about his mother. He and his father seemed like such a two-man act. But of course there had to be a third person in the family. Was she even in the equation? "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. You were saying something about creativity being good therapy."

"No, it's OK. There's no reason not to tell you. Mom died when I was fifteen. Cancer. Not even Dad's money or my supposed brains could cure her."

"Supposed? Please." She crossed her arms.

"What do you know about it?"

"Nothing." She knew she should give up and let it go, but her temper had flared. She barely held it in check as she said, "I'm sorry about your mother. But from what I've seen, if there was a way to save her you would have found it. You shouldn't blame yourself."

His angry expression faded, just a little. "That sounds like something she would have said."

An awkward silence descended. Desperate to end it, Robin said, quickly, "Can I look at those movies?"

Kyle's mouth quirked. Of course he'd see through that. "Sure." He led her back over to the computer, sat down, and started typing. In a few short seconds, a list appeared.

Most of what she saw, she'd expected to see. Movies that were visually stunning, full of fancy special effects that a computer geek like Kyle would drool over. All nine Star Wars movies, Transformers and its two sequels, superhero movies like the Justice League, Iron Man and Captain America, even the Lord of the Rings. But there were a few things that surprised her.

"Toy Story?" she read out. "Stardust? Indiana Jones? The Princess Bride? Wicked?"

"They're some of my favorites. Not what you expected?" He wore a small smile.

"Well…I guess not. Why these?"

"Toy Story was a breakthrough. The first full-length movie made completely with computer animation. It looks simplistic to us today, but I still think it's awesome because of all it represents. Stardust and the Princess Bride are both the kind of adventure movies centered around a classic love story theme. Magic and princesses, pirates and villains. I know," he grinned as she opened her mouth, "You wouldn't have pegged me for a romantic."

"That wasn't what I was going to say," protested Robin, though that was pretty much it. "I was going to say…I thought you didn't like fantasy."

"I like possibilities, remember?"

"Ah. Right." Robin swallowed. She must sound so stupid to him. "What about the others?"

"I need a reason to like them?"

"No, but I'd like to hear the reasons. I suspect you have them."

He shrugged one shoulder. "Guilty. Wicked is an amazing political satire. And I did consultation on some of the effects. I like Indiana Jones for the adventure. Plus I love Indy as a character. His conversations with Dr. Jones, Senior in Last Crusade are priceless." At Robin's blank look his eyes grew round. "Don't tell me you've never seen Indiana Jones."

"I saw the first one—what's it called?"

"Raiders of the Lost Ark."

"Yeah, that one. I saw it when I was pretty young. At least, I think it was that one. That's the one where the guy has his beating heart torn out, right?"

"No, that's the second one, Temple of Doom. Raiders of the Lost Ark, at the end the guy—" He stopped. "Never mind. We'll watch it. You'll see."

"I don't know. I was pretty freaked out by the heart thing."

"Give this one a shot. I think you'll like it." He actually looked somewhat pleading, and Robin found she couldn't resist. What was wrong with her?

"All right," she said, making certain to give him as grouchy a glare as possible. She went to drag herself over a chair from the table, but Kyle stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"No, sit here. I'll get one for myself."

"And what would the nurse say if you walked all that way? She'd never forgive either of us." She shoved him aside and walked quickly at a pace she was sure he couldn't match with the bite on his leg.

Behind her, he thought she heard him say, very quietly, "As you wish," which sent a chill up her spine.

He was sitting in his own chair with such an amiable grin when she came back that she was pretty sure she'd misheard his last comment. "Stubborn to the last," was all he said. Robin placed her chair beside his and sat down in it with an unladylike plunk.

"Ready."

Kyle double clicked on the title _Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark_ on the screen, and the famous Paramount Pictures mountain appeared on the screen.

Within five minutes Robin was hooked. She lost track of the number of times Kyle said, "Shhh, just watch," when she asked a question about what was going to happen next. He was infuriating, refusing to give her any hints, even when she begged. Only a small quiver ran through her at the end when the power of God coming from the Ark of the Covenant was destroying the bad guys. Kyle didn't put an arm around her shoulders, as she'd half-expected him to do, but he did put a gentle hand on her arm. She was so absorbed in the movie she didn't even shrug off the contact. He did remove his hand fairly quickly. Robin remembered that, because her skin tingled a little as he did.

"That was great," she gushed when the movie was over. "Marion was so cool. She knew what she wanted and she wasn't afraid to work for it. Sure, she yelled a lot, but that's what women back then were supposed to do."

"The 'rescue yourself' thing didn't come in until a later era in movies," agreed Kyle.

"Does she come back? I don't remember her from the other Indy movie I saw."

"You'll have to wait and see," he said with a superior grin. Robin knew by this point he would never tell her, so she tried her best to let it drop.

"Thank you very much for the nice evening, Mr. Carey," she said instead. "Good night."

"Good night, Miss Grey."

She went straight to her room. He didn't try to follow her. For the first time, she was just the tiniest bit sorry.

* * *

_Author's Note: Sorry about the wait. Moving back to school tends to take some time and concentration. Hope you're enjoying the chemistry between Kyle and Robin. They've been as hard to bring together as Vanessa and Adam in their own way._

_About the movies: Remember that this takes place in 2017. I picked/made up movies I think it highly likely will be made in the next 10 years or so. Whether or not they'll be good, one can't predict. I was going to include Pirates of the Caribbean because they are all visual-effects intense, but thought that might be too obvious. Then Kyle and Robin would actually have heard of Barbossa and Jack Sparrow before, which I don't think would work with the particular brand of reality I've created._

_Princess of Tennis, you are awesome. Enjoy Assassin's Creed. It's a great game._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	13. Be Thou My Vision

_Disclaimer: Don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. But they are worth a shot if you haven't seen them all (watch Assassin's Creed footage on youtube. The beginning is especially interesting). Disclaimer/plug over. Let the story begin again!_

**Vanessa, 1767**

She knew he was there without having to turn. She'd been sitting at the water's edge on a washed-up tree trunk, trailing her toes in the surf and thinking about her father, when she heard a splash of waves that sounded slightly out of place.

A brief look told her she was right. He was there, standing in the waist-deep water with one hand on the twisted roots of the tree. Vanessa tensed ever so slightly, but did not jump or shriek.

"Good evening," she said instead.

"Good evening," Miss Swift," he said coolly. As always, those empty eyes showed nothing. "I hope your day was pleasant."

"Pleasant enough." Most of it had been spent gathering food in the form of nuts and berries. She had a plenty supply of fresh water—not from the Fountain—in the small stream she and her father had found on the first day.

"Good." He paused, then tilted his head. "I have something for you."

"For me?" she repeated, startled.

"Yes. Well, two things, in fact. I would call them both gifts, but one is something I found that I think already belongs to you. Meet me by the Fountain, if you don't mind."

"All right," she agreed. He slid back into the water with barely a ripple. "I do wish he wouldn't _do _that," she grumbled on the walk up. Of course the Leviathan—Adam—couldn't come and go like a normal person, confined to the water as he was, but it was unnerving how silently he could do so.

He was waiting, as before, with his head resting on his hands at the edge of the Fountain. Spread out there as well were three different dresses, all in near-perfect condition but for lines of powdered white on them where they had been soaked in saltwater and the salt dried into patterns. Two of the dresses were similar to the one she had on: plain, sturdy material that could hold up to anything she might be doing on the island. They would be a great improvement over the tatters she wore—she would no longer feel like a dockside beggar.

The other dress, however, was a world apart. Despite the salt stains, it was magnificent. Deep, midnight blue silk, the neckline edged in creamy lace that was only a little tattered. Here and there among the lace were small, matched pearls. Plain, for a lady's gown, but still finer than anything Vanessa had ever worn. She knelt and stroked the skirt reverently. "It's beautiful. But how—"

"I thought you should have some things to wear that would be more decent than the dress you arrived in. That one, perhaps you could wear when your father returns. To show you haven't been too mistreated by your host."

He hadn't answered her question. She kept silent. He sighed, and ran a hand over his nearly-bare head. "It's amazing what you find among shipwrecks, if you know where to look." At her horrified expression, his mouth twitched a little. "Worry not. I took these out of trunks that had been sealed until I pulled them apart. I would never take things off the dead. They would never forgive me."

At this, Vanessa recoiled, and he sighed again. "Those who die at sea behave slightly differently than those who die on land. The dead from the land have no trouble finding their way to the next life. Or if they do, it is more than I know. The sea-dead are conducted on their way by the Flying Dutchman, the legendary ghost ship I am certain you've heard of. The Captain and crew also serve my mistress, under similar terms. But the Dutchman is only one ship. Until it arrives, the new dead can be…temperamental. I apologize," he went on quickly, "I've frightened you."

"No!" Vanessa said, surprised by her own conviction. "No, I was only…startled. Things are so different here. Everything seems to behave by strange rules, rules I would never have dreamed of back in England."

"I understand. It took me a long time to learn the rules here, but by now I've lived by them so long I never think someone else might not know them. I shall try to be more sensitive in the future."

"Does anything else come to mind that it might be helpful for me to know? Besides that taking things from the dead under the sea might not be wise."

He smiled, in his careful way that did not show his teeth. "I'm certain there are things, but nothing that I can immediately think of."

"Then I shall stay on my guard." Vanessa ran a finger across the hem of the silk dress. "This was once magnificent. I shall try to restore it to its former glory."

"Even if you cannot, you will still look magnificent in it."

"What?" Her head came up; her hand froze on the dress. She hadn't expected to hear such things from him. But why not? He was still a man, after all. Underneath.

"Did I say something wrong?"

That puzzled, concerned look, on a face not made for any expression. The sincerity of it made her guard drop, ever so slightly. He hadn't meant any harm. Whatever other powers he might possess, he had no way of knowing her past.

"No, it wasn't you. I'm sorry."

"What troubles you, then?"

"I…distrust flattery of any kind. Back in London, I was a barmaid. On the docks." She hung her head. It was no fit occupation for a decent girl, though possibly only through luck she'd managed to maintain her virtue. "Flattery in such places always means more."

Now he looked sympathetic, another odd expression on his face. "I know it only too well. Had the shipwreck that led me here not occurred, I might well have been one of your tormentors. But you need not fear such from me now, Miss Swift. That life is long over for me."

"I should not have acted the way I did. You were only trying to be kind."

"I don't fault you, Miss Swift. In some ways, it seems you have had a harder life than I."

That was a startling thought, and one she would mull over later when she was alone. To cover her confusion, she said instead, "Thank you very much for the dresses. It was very thoughtful of you."

He shrugged one shoulder in an offhand gesture she took to mean 'It was nothing.' "I do have something else for you as well. Though I think perhaps you'll recognize it." From somewhere under the water he drew a thin wooden object that was, indeed, dearly familiar.

"My flute!" Vanessa exclaimed. "I didn't even remember when it was lost. Sometime after I fell into the Fountain, now that I think on it."

"Which is precisely where I found it. As you know, the Fountain flows out in a rock corridor to the sea, where the currents disperse it and keep the waters of the world healthy. I discovered this flute sitting on an outcropping several meters down, as if waiting to be rediscovered. I'm not certain what effect sitting so long in the water may have had on it." He held it out to her.

Vanessa took it with gentle fingers and stroked its smooth wood. "Normally, a thorough soaking for a wooden flute would ruin it beyond repair. But this one has survived two and doesn't seem to have taken any harm. Perhaps the Fountain has worked its magic on it." She put it to her lips and blew. A clear, resonant note, perfect in pitch, echoed around the cave and mingled with the constant splashing of the Fountain.

"That was beautiful." Vanessa turned to find the Leviathan's empty eyes fixed on the flute in her hands. Only they weren't empty, for a moment there seemed to be a slight depth to them. Then it was gone again. "I haven't heard anything so lovely in years. Can you really play? Songs with a tune, and all?"

Vanessa had to laugh. "I can play. My mother taught me. Papa says I'm quite good." She flushed a little at the thought. What Edward had really always said was that she and her mother could both charm the rats from their holes, like the Pied Piper of Hamlin in the old story. A thought squeezed her heart. She hadn't played since that last dreadful night in the hold of the Lady Swan. How could she play now, with her father somewhere unknown and she was all alone?

But she wasn't alone. _He_ was there, and for some reason he wanted to hear her play. She took a deep breath. _No different than playing at home, when even though I knew my parents could hear me in the next room I could pretend I was alone, _she thought.

She began to play a hymn her mother had taught her.

The whole cave seemed to grow very still as the lilt of the flute filled it again. She heard a small ripple, then Adam began to sing, very softly. She was surprised he knew the words in English at all. He had a deep, resonant voice that intertwined with the higher tones of her flute in a way that brought gooseflesh to her skin.

_Be Thou my vision, O Lord, of my heart,_

_Naught be all else to me save that Thou art_

_Thou my best thought, by day or by night,_

_Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my Light._

It was like magic, the way the music seemed to fill everything around. Not the frightening magic that she couldn't understand, the Leviathan's magic. This magic was as familiar as a caress. Her heart could empty of everything but the music.

It was hard to stop playing; she could have gone on forever. But eventually she did stop, and when she did the sounds echoed around the cave again for long seconds afterward.

She turned to look at Adam. His eyes were huge in the dimness of the cave, and the hint of depth was back in them again. He was looking at her in a way that bordered on awe.

She cleared her throat, embarrassed. "You didn't tell me you were going to sing."

"You didn't tell me what song you were going to play."

"How do you know it? I learned it from my mother; everything she taught me came from Ireland."

He sighed, and splashed a hand in the water thoughtfully. "I had just joined the English ship, when I was twelve. There was an Irishman onboard ship who had probably been at sea for twice my lifetime. He used to sing late at night, when we were all in our hammocks. I learned those songs in my dreams."

Vanessa tried to imagine the scene. She heard the ship's creak, a low murmur of voices, a single old man's voice singing in the darkness. She saw a single lantern swinging, and the shapes of hammocks in the darkness. But she could not see Adam as a young human boy. That picture would not come to her. She felt as if it were just out of reach. The longer she knew him, Adam showed her he was more human than any man she had ever met but for her father, but she just couldn't manage to see it in her mind.

The words of the song ran through her mind again.

_Be Thou my vision, O Lord, of my heart…_

She sent them to Heaven as a prayer. _Help me see him as he is. Help me lose my fear of him. I feel—I sense—that he is good, that he won't hurt me, but my mind and my senses don't want to believe it. Be Thou my vision. Help my heart to see his._

"Are you all right, Miss Swift?" His words broke the spell that had fallen over the cave when she had begun to play.

"Yes. I was only thinking that it has been far too long since I played. I never thought how much I would miss it."

"Perhaps you could play again, sometime? I won't sing again, if it bothers you."

"No, your singing was lovely. You have a fine voice. Perhaps in the future we can teach one another some of the songs we know." _I only have to remember to look away when you sing, to avoid the sight of your teeth._ She tried not to shudder.

_Be Thou my vision._

She took a deep breath. "Please…call me Vanessa."

"What? No. I wouldn't dream of insulting you by addressing you so familiarly. It's not as if we are on…intimate terms."

"Not at all. But we're the only two here, and it seems silly to stand on ceremony in such limited company." She didn't add that she was striving to think of him as Adam in her head, and not as the Leviathan. Monsieur Gris also sounded awkward to her, though it was the equivalent of 'Miss Swift.'

"You make a point, Miss Sw—Vanessa." He smiled that careful smile, so she wouldn't have to look away. "If you ask it, then I shall oblige."

Vanessa smiled tentatively back. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

* * *

_Author's Note: A slightly short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed the fluff._

_A note about Be Thou My Vision: It's an old Irish tune that is associated with St. Patrick, but wasn't translated into English until the early 20__th__ century. Before that it was in old Irish, or Gaelic. I sort of played with this a little so that you could know what song I meant. It's a popular hymn today and very easy to find clips of it if you don't already know what it sounds like._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	14. Echoes of the Past

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. That would be cool, though, wouldn't it?_

**Robin, 2017**

Robin opened her eyes with a little surprise. That session had seemed much shorter than the previous one.

"Kyle?" she said as she sat up.

Quite another figure rose from Kyle's chair. Robin nearly fell off the Animus, but steadied herself when she realized who it was.

"Miss Grey," Russell Carey gave her a tight smile. He did not apologize for startling her, nor did he help her off the bed. With a start, she realized she had actually become accustomed to Kyle's small gestures of courtesy.

"Where's Kyle?" she asked when she was on her feet.

"I sent him out for the nurse to check up on him. Make sure she's satisfied with his progress after that unfortunate accident a few days ago."

"Oh." Robin did not in the least like being alone with Russell. Nor did she really like the idea of being in the Animus with only him watching her.

"Miss Grey, I won't mince words. I'm a busy man. I came out here the minute I saw the so-called progress report, including some of the footage my son sent. I told him as soon as I arrived, and I'm telling you now, you've both got to stop this nonsense about giant sea monsters and such."

"It isn't nonsense," Robin snapped. "I'm seeing what Vanessa saw. It's really real. I wouldn't have believed it either, if I weren't living it."

His face darkened. "I'm surprised at you, Miss Grey. You struck me as a young woman with a healthy amount of sense and skepticism. That you would go along with this childish scheme is beyond me."

"Why would I want to lie to you?" Robin demanded, struggling mightily to hold on to her temper. "I'd like to get out of here as quickly as possible. Whatever it is you want to find, I wish you had trawled the information out of my mind days ago. As for Kyle, I don't know what he gets out of this, but he's your son. You should at least trust him on that count."

Russell started to walk around the computer desk towards her. Well, stalk was probably a better word, Robin thought. She held her ground, but behind her back clutched the side of the Animus table until she could feel the cool metal starting to bite into her palm.

Russell stopped in front of her. Robin was suddenly struck by how tall he was. She felt very small standing in front of him. But she stuck out her chin and refused to be intimidated.

This was a mistake. Striking like a snake, Russell grabbed the offending part; namely, her chin. He was much stronger than she'd anticipated, and no matter how she twisted she couldn't look away.

"I've had about enough of your sass," he hissed. "You want to be very careful, Miss Grey. You don't know what you're messing with here. I won't have my operation ruined by a pair of kids who don't know when to stop playing and enter the real world."

"You're hurting me, Mr. Carey," Robin said through clenched teeth. She refused to let him see the tears that were welling up. She usually didn't have a problem with intimidation, but a very real fear—Vanessa's, or her own?—was rising in her.

"I'll do worse than this if you don't start cooperating," he growled, and released her. "Remember your friend Miles, and watch what you say to me."

Robin cursed at him under her breath.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me." When he started for her again, Robin shimmied over the top and around to the other side of the Animus. From the relative safety of this position, she said, "You can't hurt me too badly. You still need me."

They froze in place. The tension ratcheted up a notch or two. Then Russell straightened, and shifted his sport coat on his shoulders as if tossing off his annoyance. "May I remind you, Miss Grey, that you won't always be useful. I'd be very, very careful in the future if I were you." He headed for the door, his heels hitting hard on the floor. He paused just before leaving. "Remember what I said."

Robin remained rigidly upright until she was certain he was not returning to the room. Then she half-collapsed onto the Animus table, bending over it and burying her head in her hands. She could feel herself shaking but refused to allow tears to fall. White-hot rage was still coursing through her.

Distantly she heard the door open again. She did not look up.

"Robin!" Kyle put a hand on her shoulder, shaking it. "Robin, are you all right? What did he say to you? Robin!" Then, more tentatively, "Rob?"

She looked up, but didn't object to the familiar name. "Nothing that he hasn't already said."

"But he upset you."

Robin straightened completely and studied him. His face was paler than usual, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. "You, too."

He shrugged. "I've dealt with him longer than you. He's mostly talk."

"Maybe with you he is."

Kyle's eyes narrowed as he absorbed this. With gentle fingers he reached out. Robin did her best not to flinch. He hesitated a moment, then touched the tip of her chin ever so slightly, enough to tilt her head towards the overhead light so that he could see the forming bruises. Robin closed her eyes to keep in the tears of humiliation and anger. One trickled down her cheek, unbidden.

"I'm so sorry," Kyle said, very softly. "I never meant—" He stopped, and she felt his thumb wipe away the tear. "He yelled at me, too, you know. Called us two stupid teenagers who needed to realize what was really important."

That brought a small smile, though the sticky tear track made it feel forced. "We're not teenagers."

"Far from it. We both outgrew stupid teenagehood long ago. We both know what's important. Robin, I feel terrible asking you to do this, but we have to keep going with the Animus. We haven't seen everything we're searching for yet, and the longer we delay the angrier at us both he's going to get. Somehow we have to convince him we're not making this up. Barring that, we have to find what we're looking for, quickly."

Robin looked down at the bed. Kyle studied her, then said, "Forget I said that. We're taking the rest of the day off. I'll tell him the nurse said I overtaxed and I can't work."

"Did you actually go see her?" Robin asked, her mood lightening at the prospect of some time to relax.

"No." Kyle looked confused. "What made you think I did?"

"Your dad. He said he sent you out to go talk to her when he brought me out of the Animus." She glared at the door. "He must have been trying to separate us."

"Well, sort of." Now Kyle looked sheepish. "I walked out. I was showing him the footage as it was coming out of the machine, and he asked to see the real footage. I told him that was it. We…argued. I got angry and left. I'm sorry, Robin. I shouldn't have left him alone with you. I should have realized what he'd do."

"It's not your fault. If I could have left when he was litting into me, I would have."

Kyle looked guilty again. "I'm really sorry." They studied each other. Looking at him, it suddenly occurred to Robin that Kyle was likely as tall as his father. Somehow, he was just less imposing. Maybe because he was so much thinner and projected the air of an intellectual who saw the sun only rarely. And the black hair against the white skin really was striking, when you got used to it. It drew attention to his angled features, the hidden humor under the pride of his quirked eyebrows.

Robin blinked, and shook her head slightly. She had to stop thinking like this. A few more days and she'd actually find him attractive.

Kyle cleared his throat, and she suddenly wondered what he'd been thinking as he looked at her. "Actually…" he said hesitantly, bringing her completely back to earth. "I wanted to try something. A small experiment that doesn't involve the Animus."

"What kind of experiment?" Robin asked suspiciously.

"Nothing painful, I promise. I've been noticing in the past day or so that Vanessa seems to be rubbing off on you. Not too obvious, just a few small mannerisms. It may not mean anything, since the two of you are so much alike already. Or it may be a side effect of the synching."

"How do you test something like that? Have me walk around and act as much like Vanessa as possible?"

Kyle chuckled. "No, though I think both of us would swear she was in the room when you were done." He ducked under his computer workstation and began rummaging around. "I had one of my dad's people pick this up in a local market the other day," he said, his voice slightly muffled.

"What?" asked Robin, leaning over to see. Kyle emerged too quickly, and they whacked heads. "Ow!"

Kyle sucked in his breath through his teeth, rubbing the sore spot. "Note to self: look next time."

"No kidding."

"Here," Kyle said, holding out the object he had pulled out. Robin stared at it in amazement and some dismay. It was a rough-carved wooden flute, the kind any local could make with their eyes shut and sell to a tourist for 10.

"I can't play," she whispered, realizing where this was going.

"I think maybe you can, now. Just try it. At worst, it will sound horrible and I won't bother you about it again."  
She hated it when his logic was right. And now that he'd brought the subject up, she _was _a little curious. Almost without her permission her fingers reached out.

She blew once. The note wavered, and she brought the flute away from her mouth again. "See?"

"You didn't even give it a real shot. Think of that song Vanessa played and try again."

Robin scowled at him but did as he suggested. She thought of how that song the pirates had been singing had gotten so stuck in her head. Closing her eyes halfway, she heard again the haunting tune of the hymn Vanessa had played, of the way it had echoed around the cave of the Fountain of Youth and intertwined with Adam's voice in that weird way that even to her had sounded magical.

Her fingers were moving. She opened her eyes. She was in control, she was hearing the melody in her head and feeding it to her fingers, and somehow they knew what to do.

She broke off in the middle of the song. Kyle was looking at her with a kind of awe. "That was…good. That was really good." He swallowed, and seemed to pull himself together. "Wow. The sound quality of my equipment really doesn't do justice to Vanessa's talent. She could totally have made her living playing."

Robin was still staring at the flute. "I've never played an instrument in my life. That was amazing. I just somehow knew what to do."

"Vanessa is starting to bleed over into you a little bit, that's all."

"That sounds ominous," said Robin, giving him a dubious look.

"Does it? I guess I should have phrased it better." Kyle thought for a second. "What I meant was, the synching is reaching a point where you can do some of the things she could, and bits of her personality are coming out. I don't know how permanent it is," he added as she opened her mouth.

"The idea of being able to wow people with my flute playing skills for the rest of my life somehow doesn't bother me that much," Robin admitted stroking the flute with one thumb. Then an idea occurred to her. "But…I won't _become_ Vanessa, will I? The—the _mousiness_, and all?"

"I doubt it. In certain situations, you may find yourself feeling what she would have felt. But how can you completely become her? You've had an entire life she's never had and can't even imagine. That won't be pushed aside so easily. And who knows? The strength of the synch might fade over time. In fact, I'd be surprised if it didn't. Right now you're in near-constant contact with those parts of your brain closely linked to Vanessa. Once that isn't happening every day things will change."

"And I'll go back to who I was?" Robin guessed.

"Will you?"

That startled her. "What do you mean?"

"Can you go back to being the old Robin Grey, before…well, before my dad showed up on your doorstep?"

"That's the plan," Robin said, though she found the thought unsettling. Yes, she wanted to be out of here, back to her relatively safe life and the buffer walls she'd built so carefully to keep people from finding her. But could she, really? Would she always be looking over her shoulder? How long before that would drive her crazy?

And then there was Kyle. She'd grown used to his companionship, at the very least. She was starting to like him. Behind the big words, those fast-typing fingers, and that annoying ability to answer questions before they were asked, he was surprisingly fun to be around. Did she really want to say goodbye forever to him?

To cover her confusion, she lifted the flute again. "Let me try something else. Something I've never heard her play."

She tried a song she was certain was composed after Vanessa's time. It didn't sound anywhere near as good, but her fingers still went to their positions without protest.

"Not bad," Kyle said. "What made you choose "My Heart Will Go On" from Titanic?"

Robin felt heat crawling up her neck. "It came to mind. And…I liked that movie when I was younger."

Kyle titled his head in a way that said he expected her to say more.

"Fine. I still like it. I had a huge crush on Leonardo di Caprio for awhile even though he's way too old for me. I'm occasionally a sucker for a cute smile. Happy?"

Kyle blinked. "You didn't have to tell me that much."

"You asked for it."

He didn't deny it, just bobbed his head. "And duly received my punishment."

"Let me try something else, then," laughed Robin.

They spent the rest of the evening trying different songs, some familiar to them, some Kyle looked up on his ever-patient computer as ones Vanessa might have known but Robin had never heard of. She did better playing those, as though they were buried deep in her brain somewhere.

She went to bed with the song "Carrickfergus" in her mind, the same song Vanessa had played on the Lady Swan:

_But the sea is wide and I cannot swim over,_

_Nor have I the wings to fly…_

_Ah, to be back now, in Carrickfergus_

_To be together, my love and I…_

* * *

_Author's Note: This was a slightly longer chapter than I anticipated, but Robin and Kyle seem to take over when I write their sections. Robin is especially fun to write. Her perspectives on things are so interesting to me. Not that I don't adore all my other characters. Next up, the famous (or infamous) ballroom scene starring Vanessa and Adam! Yay!_

_A small note—at the end of Assassin's Creed, the man from the present is able to call on his ancestor's skill of Eagle Vision, which is this sort of sixth sense that can tell him if someone is a friend or enemy. I'm expanding that idea, though of course it takes much less time for Robin to learn Vanessa's skill. But I figured playing the flute is a little less complicated than a psychic power._

_Let me know what you're thinking so far! Please?_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	15. Clothing

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa sat on the log with her toes trailing in the water. In the past few days it had become her favorite spot on the island. She never tired of watching the waves roll in, and of the sun sparkling out on the sea. She had become quite brown in a short amount of time. Her hair had also acquired lighter streaks in the sun. She never bothered to cover it, as would have seemed decent at home, but often left it loose to blow free or tied it back with some thread from her old clothing. She had used what was salvageable of her tattered dress for a another project, but there had been some bits left over.

Sometimes the dolphins would find her here. They loved to play games that involved splashing her as much as possible. Vanessa never objected to this; often she would try to splash back but they were much too quick and disappeared underwater. She never got into the water above her waist with them. Beyond that point she was uncomfortable with the fact that she didn't know how to swim, though she trusted the dolphins not to let her drown. They had their territory, she had hers. She did love the feeling of their slick bodies under her hands as they brushed and rubbed against her in the surf.

Occasionally at times the Leviathan—she still struggled with thinking of him as Adam, though that was always how she addressed him—would find her there as well.

She sensed that on some level he was fascinated by her, and she was not certain how she felt about it. The flatness in his eyes had never quite returned after the time she had played her flute in the Fountain's cave and occasionally she caught the tail end of a look from him that was a strange mix of curiosity and longing. It sent shivers up her spine.

In the past, she had always known what a longing look meant: she was in for a rough time of harassment and bruises. But Adam was always gentle and courteous; certainly he never offered to touch her. He had the power to harm her badly and force her to do whatever he chose, and yet he never did.

Despite her confusion she looked forward to these times with him. She was often lonely, finding the silence of the island somewhat oppressive after the noise of the ship and the city noise she was used to. She could hardly imagine the depth of his loneliness, the years on the island with only the sea creatures for company. No wonder he had begun to forget humanity. It would almost have been easier that way.

Sometimes they talked, she on the log and he drifting comfortably beside it, and sometimes they sat in companionable silence. They spoke of all manner of things: music, for one, and sometimes Vanessa played her flute. At times Adam would sing, and once he even coaxed her to put the flute away and sing with him. Most of what they talked of was of no real consequence; at one time they even compared French, English, and Irish bedtime tales.

A few times, they talked of their pasts. Vanessa even plucked up the courage to ask him straight out if he missed his parents.

He had been silent for a moment. Then he said, "Sometimes. Mostly I hope that they do not waste too much time or energy worrying about me."

"Did you ever plan to go back?"

"At one time I had vague dreams of returning home a well-traveled man, ready to settle down and tell tales of adventure to my children. But now? If I were suddenly free and able to go home? What would I tell them about where I'd been, for one?"

"You could invent things. I understand sailors have quite wild imaginations."

"I am a terrible liar."

"Weave in the truth and no one would ever know. After all, who at home around a comfortable fire believes in giant sea monsters and goddesses of the sea?"

"True. Very true." She could hear the chuckle in his voice, but then it grew sad. "I have seen things no mortal would dream of. I've known the freedom of the ocean. What would I do in a stuffy parlor dressed in silks and entertaining people? It would drive me mad in short order."

Vanessa was recalling this conversation now, sitting in the same place she had been when Adam had spoken these words. She tried again, as she had then, to picture the scene he had described and failed.

An out-of-place splash announced his presence. She looked up and smiled. "There you are. I was just thinking about you."

"About me?" His forehead wrinkled in his equivalent of raising his eyebrows without actually possessing them. "I'm flattered, Miss Swift."

"Vanessa," she corrected automatically.

"Vanessa," he amended. "You were thinking about me?"

"Yes, I was," she said, thought she wasn't about to tell him in what context. She reached beside her. "I made you something."

The wrinkles grew deeper. "Did you?"

"Well..." Now she felt her face heating up. Maybe he would be insulted when he saw what she had made. But she pulled it out from beside her on the log.

His face froze. Then he stood in the water so that it only came to his knees, and took the sewn cloth from her fingers. "You—you made me a pair of breeches?" He held them up to examine them. "Out of your old dress?"

"I hope you…like them," she mumbled. It was a foolish thing to say but it found its way out of her.

"I…I'm grateful, Vanessa, but I cannot accept them." Yet he seemed reluctant to hand them back. His fingers were still stroking the cloth, almost unconsciously.

"Why not?"

"Truthfully…I cannot wear them."

She tilted her head. "Did I make them too small?"

"No, not at all. But you must understand. When there is a ship in the vicinity, I must change into the Leviathan whether I will it or no. I would not want to…damage your thoughtful gift."

"Oh." Vanessa considered this, then shrugged. "It wasn't very good cloth to begin with. If it tears, then it tears, and you're no worse off then when you started. But I thought you might occasionally wear them."

"I make you uncomfortable."

She flushed, but did not look away. "Well, at times. Not so often now. I hardly notice anymore. I admit I was more thinking of you than myself when I conceived the idea."

He regarded her for a long moment. Then, without a word, he pulled the breeches on. They got soaking wet in the process, but Vanessa wasn't worried about that. They would be constantly wet if he continued to wear them with any regularity. She had expected the plain brown cloth to highlight the lack of color in his skin, but instead it brought out some slight unexpected hues deep underneath the pale white. She stared at him as he stood facing her, suddenly able for the first time to see just a glimpse of the man he might be.

"Vanessa?" His voice brought her back. He actually looked uncertain, as if waiting for her judgment.

"They suit you," she said with a smile, covering her surprise at the brief image that had come to her. "If they give you any trouble, I can try to alter them so they give you more freedom."

"No, I think they're a perfect fit." He looked down at them, brushed one hand gently over the unfamiliar cloth, then looked back at her. The depth in his eyes was startling now. "How can I thank you?"

She waved a hand dismissively. "No need. I was pleased to do it; my old dress wouldn't have lasted much longer. Think of it as my thank you for finding me the dresses and my flute."

She could see his lips tighten and from that concluded he was not really satisfied with this. His face was growing easier and easier to read; she couldn't decide if it was because she was growing used to interpreting him or he was using more facial expression than when they had first met. She climbed down from the log to face him on level ground. Unfortunately, she misjudged where to put her foot and it hit a spot where a wave was just sucking back out to sea and the sand was much less solid than it looked. She slipped.

Strong hands caught her as she fell sideways. An ordinary man would have dropped her at the awkward angle of her body, but with the lightning-fast reflexes of a fish Adam had managed to grab her under both arms at the shoulder. She got soaked to the waist, but she didn't go under until a particularly large wave came from behind and slapped her in the back of the head. Dripping and trying to shake off both the shock of falling and the dizzying hit of the wave, she was too startled to protest the arm going around her stomach and hauling her to her feet.

They stood like that for a moment, he behind her still with one hand under her arm and his other arm about her waist holding her up. For the briefest moment, what she really wanted to do was to lean her head back against his chest and just rest it there. But as soon as he felt she had her feet under her again, he released her.

She turned to look up at him. There was a question in his eyes, one that she couldn't answer. It was the first time he had touched her deliberately since the day she had saved him on the beach with the healing water of the Fountain and he had gripped her wrist. True, this was more an accident, but it felt as though some barrier between them had cracked. But not broken.

She took several steps out of the water, shaking her head.

He backed away into the surf. "I shall see you later." With his usual silence he faded into the water, leaving Vanessa to stare after him.

She put one hand where his had fit under her arm, the other around her waist so that she could feel the warmth from both places, like an echo of the warmth she'd felt when he had pulled her against him. Her heart sped up, just slightly.

He had nearly held her in his arms. And she had let him; felt no need to escape the almost-embrace. It had been so brief, so fleeting, but she had felt safe, and protected, for the first time since she had been a child and didn't understand the dangers of the world.

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, imitating one of Adam's favored gestures. Their interactions had never been comfortable from the beginning. At first, and for some time, it had been because she feared him, and he feared to frighten her more. Now? She had lost most of her fear, though she still could not look at his teeth without a shudder, but the tentative nature of their relationship remained. They would have a moment where they seemed to understand one another perfectly, and then they would retreat once more.

And the way he had looked at her before he left—she had hurt him. Perhaps he even thought she was angry with him. There had to be a way she could at least attempt to make amends.

-0-0-

_Gentle blue mist, familiar by now, fades out the scene at the beach._

_The pleasant female voice: "Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

-0-0-

He found her waiting for him much later in the Fountain cave. It was quite dark, but the moon was full and cast a brilliant white glow onto everything. It threw bits of light onto the walls of the cave so that it seemed there were dancing stars everywhere.

Adam came up, saw her sitting nearby, and started talking without really noticing anything else. "There you are. I was—" Then he got a closer look at Vanessa, and stopped.

His reaction secretly pleased her. He looked her up and down, silently taking in her dressed in the blue silk gown he had found for her. She had spent several hours getting the worst of the salt stains out of it, though some crystals still glittered on it when the light hit the fabric right. It fit as though it had been made for her, that she knew, but it was difficult to get an accurate picture when your 'mirror' was moving water.

"You look—" he started, then stopped. He cleared his throat and started again. "You look wonderful. May I enquire as to the occasion?"

"I wanted to try it on and see if the fit was correct," she shrugged. She had felt a little silly putting it on; she hadn't been able to do anything with her hair, the laces weren't as tight as fashion demanded as she had been forced to lace them herself, and her feet were bare. A dockside beggar masquerading as a lady. But seeing him looking so pleased had made it all worth it. "And I wanted to make certain you weren't angry with me over my disgraceful behavior earlier. I might have at least thanked you for catching me. I was beginning to be afraid you weren't going to come at all tonight."

"I thought you might be…upset. So I stayed away until I realized I hadn't seen you among the trees in awhile. Then I came looking."

"I wanted to _show_ you that I wasn't upset rather than simply _tell_ you."

He gave her another assessing look, one completely different from the looks Captain Kerry, and many like him, had once given her. Adam's eyes did not linger, it was more the gaze of a man who genuinely likes everything he sees, inside and out. "I believe you," he said simply. "I do believe I misjudged you."

They both knew he was not talking merely about what had happened earlier that day.

Putting two muscular arms on the edge of the Fountain, Adam heaved himself up to stand dripping on a shallow ledge Vanessa had not noticed before that ran around the outer edge of the base. He was still wearing the breeches.

She stood, and took a step forward. Then another, and another, until they were close enough to touch.

Very, very slowly, he held out a hand made even whiter by the moon. She stared at it as if for a moment she didn't recognize what the gesture meant. She looked up at him, and saw he was prepared for her to step away, to say she could not bring herself to touch a creature so frightening.

Her heart stirred with pity, and something else that she could not name. How hard could it be to reach out?

Her fingers met his, then slid down his palm in a feather-light touch. Trails of saltwater followed her fingertips from his still-wet hand, but underneath that his skin felt just like hers.

They grasped hands, and Vanessa suddenly felt foolish. Of course his skin would feel like anyone else's; she had felt it before that very afternoon. She looked up and met his calm eyes again. His face was solemn, but there were minute crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

Very, very slowly he reached out the other hand towards her. Vanessa held still. She was caught motionless by the look in his eyes, spellbound by their depth. She did not flinch or pull back when he ran the very tips of his fingers down her cheek. He was so gentle it felt like a leaf's caress. She closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation.

In closing her eyes, she broke the spell. She tensed, ever so slightly, and Adam, with quick instinct, withdrew. In a gesture that made him look very much like an embarrassed young man, he clasped his hands behind his back. Vanessa smiled, her own frayed nerves somewhat soothed.

"That was presumptuous of me," he said, taking a small step back, "I apologize."

She just stared at him, not sure of how to respond. So many of her usual comfort barriers had been shattered and yet she felt no panic, no fear. She doubted she would object if he wanted to touch her again. She almost _wanted _him to touch her again. And that was what frightened her now, not Adam himself, or even the part of him that was the Leviathan. Had she changed so much in such a little amount of time?

Oh, she was so confused, but to back away would put them back to that afternoon again.

So she held out her own hand, and said the first thing that came to her mind. "Can you teach me how to swim?"

* * *

_Author's Note: So this is taking a lot longer than I anticipated. Vanessa is so gun-shy of being touched, and Adam is so careful about spooking her that any interaction is still awkward. They can't dance, obviously; that would just not work in this situation, so I have other ideas about that. Let me know what you think about how fast/slow this is moving; I'd like to hear opinions on this one._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	16. So Close, Still So Far

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed. Then I would be crazily wealthy and able to pursue my own interests, like writing, and never worry about money._

**Vanessa, 1767**

Adam blinked several times. "Teach you to…swim?" he repeated. Clearly this was not what he had expected to hear.

In the back of her mind, the observing presence wished she could say, jokingly, _You do know how, don't you?_ just to ease the tension in the cave. Instead, Vanessa said, "I feel it is high time I learned."

"I have watched you with the dolphins, at times. You fear the water, don't you?"

Vanessa smoothed her skirts and stood tall. "Once, I did." She smiled. "And not so very long ago. But I know if I have you to teach me…you won't let anything happen to me."

He tilted his head. Whether it was a gesture of assent or puzzlement, she couldn't tell, and he didn't say. His mouth quirked slightly. "I think it might be accomplished. But not here." He gestured at the Fountain. "Here there is a danger of you swallowing the water when your intention is not to become immortal."

"Ah." Vanessa hadn't thought of that. "A good idea." She turned, but Adam had already vanished silently into the Fountain itself. Sensing his meaning, she turned and left the cave in the direction of the beach.

The only thing visible of him when she arrived was his fin. It poked above the water, thin and curved like a half moon against the dark of the sea. The moment her toes touched seafoam he stood up straight. He was up to his chest in the water.

Vanessa hesitated when her knees began to get wet. She was having trouble keeping her balance in the tug and flow of the water. Doubts plagued her. Images began to rise unbidden before her eyes: plunging into the angry sea when the Lady Swan split apart, the boiling foam before she fell off the Black Pearl.

A hand slid into hers. "This is the hardest part," said Adam. "Come on."

With him standing before her and towing her out, they made it past the breakers and into calmer water. There Adam instructed her in stroking with her arms and kicking with her feet.

"Where did you learn all this?" she asked when they were resting for a moment.

"Believe it or not, I knew before I came here how to swim. Some rivers in France are warm enough for swimming in. They are not so rough as this; I would not have chosen this water for a beginner."

"At least it is warm enough." Vanessa sank down so the water lapped around her neck.

"True." Adam regarded her for a moment, moonlight glancing off his dark eyes. He sank down so his face was level with hers. "Don't be alarmed," he said. "I'm going to change. I want to show you something."

"What?" Vanessa took a step backwards. She was picturing the Leviathan's giant body in this shallow water, but when Adam resurfaced he was in the shark form that matched the size of the dolphins. He brushed against her, gently, so gently that she didn't feel the scrape of his skin, only a slight not-unpleasant tingle. She couldn't help a small smile flitting across her face at the sensation. She took hold of the fin he had so carefully positioned in front of her and let her feet leave the sand. Adam's tail began to stroke powerfully, carrying them straight out into the open ocean.

They finally stopped when the island was well and truly out of sight. There was no land visible anywhere; it was impossible to tell where the sea ended and the sky began. The stars and the moon reflected perfect twins onto the ocean surface and there was not a cloud to be seen. The only sound was the background roar of the waves. It was the Fountain cave once again, on a much grander scale.

Adam appeared beside her in his mostly human form. "What do you think?"

"Adam, I could never have imagined anything this beautiful," glowed Vanessa.

He didn't smile, but she could tell he was pleased. "I come out here on nights when I feel alone in the world. Then I look up, and I remember that every living being is looking upon that same sky. I am just one among many to admire it."

Vanessa, who had felt lonely very often, especially after her mother's death, liked this image a great deal. She lay back and tried to just enjoy the sweep of the night sky and the glow of the moonlight on her face, but she could not find a way to float comfortably without distracting herself from the view.

"What is it?" asked Adam after she splashed a little too loudly.

"I cannot float," grumbled Vanessa. "I am forever forced to move, or sink. And if I move, I cannot appreciate the view as it deserves."

In an instant, he was there beside her. "I think I can remedy that, if you will allow it. Lie back in the water."

Vanessa did as instructed. Adam slid his hands beneath the small of her back and her knees so that he could support her while she lay stiffly on the water's surface. Then he sank quite low in the water so that all that was visible was his head from the nose up. In this way he did not block her view and could still keep her afloat. Vanessa relaxed completely into his care. Except for an occasional slap on the side of the head with a wavelet, she focused completely on the sky.

It was one of the most glorious moments of her life, so near to perfect she could not have imagined feeling so peaceful. Adam had been right. She felt connected to the rest of the world by the mere thought that no matter where there were people who could look up and see exactly what she saw.

Even her father.

The idea assaulted her with guilt. She hadn't given a thought to her father for almost the entire day. Even more confusing, instead of Edward, the place he usually occupied in the front of her mind had been replaced by thoughts of—Adam.

The idea was so distracting that she accidentally relaxed her straight back and knees. Sinking ever so slightly she realized she had dropped straight into Adam's arms. He now held her protectively to his chest as if carrying her.

For the second time after accidentally finding herself in his embrace, Vanessa did not want to leave it. Instead of panicking, however, she turned to look at him.

For his part, he did not seem to realize anything unusual was going on. "Too much sky?" he asked her.

"Never," she answered. "Never. But it made me think of—" She stopped herself before she choked on tears.

"Your father," he finished for her. "I understand."

Of course he would understand. How could he look at the stars, and not think of his own family? They, too, could see the stars, from their grand house in France.

"I am truly sorry for what I've done to you," he whispered, so softly she barely heard it over the ocean's noise. "Had I known how close the two of you are, I would never have dreamed of forcing you to part."

"We're all each other has in the world," Vanessa replied, "but I have not been so lonely as I imagined I would be at the first. Perhaps that has been true for him as well. I can only hope, and pray."

They silently looked at the stars again for a few more seconds, sending their individual prayers heavenward. They looked straight at each other at nearly the same instant. Vanessa was suddenly struck by how close his face was to her own. His pale skin stood out against the dark water like a second moon, with two dark eyes punching holes through the white. Something changed in those eyes, like a fire growing from dying embers, and a realization slapped Vanessa hard.

He wanted to kiss her.

The idea was unbearable. She had been kissed before, and far more roughly than Adam was ever likely to dream of doing. It was not past experience that made the idea nauseating. She only had to imagine what those terrible serrated teeth would do to her lips, even if by accident, even if he was only being affectionate, to shudder with horror.

At her shudder, Adam immediately released her. Vanessa backed several strokes away from him, still shaking with the images in her mind.

She liked Adam a great deal, certainly. In a short time he had become a very dear companion. Already she disliked the idea that when the time came she would have to leave him alone on the island to remain the Leviathan forever until slain. She hardly dared admit it to herself, but if he had been, well, human, she would not have minded him courting her. Or someone identical in tastes and temperament. Perhaps her father, and even her mother, rest her soul, would have approved of him as a son-in-law. But as things stood…she simply could not imagine it.

Adam recovered well from the hurt she had likely just caused him. He did not apologize, which was a bit strange as he was always careful when he was afraid he had offended her. Instead, he gave no sign that anything had happened at all. "I'll take us back now, Vanessa, if that suits you."

"Yes, please, thank you," she replied. If he could act as though nothing had changed between them, then she could do so as well. Perhaps if they both pretended enough it could become true.

He slipped beneath the water's surface and returned as the smaller Leviathan. Vanessa obediently took hold of his fin and allowed him to tow her back towards the island. The pleasure of whipping so swiftly through the water, far faster than she could ever swim, helped some of her discomfort to ease behind her. She even tried kicking as Adam had taught her so that she didn't feel as though she clung to his side like a dead weight. They didn't go any faster, but she felt better for the effort. The result was that all four of her limbs were deadly tired when they arrived at the beach. Adam judged they were in shallow enough water for Vanessa to touch bottom and halted, but when she tried to walk to shore she couldn't get her feet under her. The rolling waves kept knocking her this way and that. Trying to avoid them only made it worse

Vanessa finally had a mouthful of water shoved down her throat by a particularly vigorous wave. As she coughed it out, strong arms swept her up and held her tight to a smooth bare chest. Vanessa relaxed gratefully, too tired to protest. Part of her wanted to raise a fuss at being held so close after the fright their last encounter had caused, but the rest of her, the larger part, only wanted to be on dry land so she could sleep.

Adam halted in the shallowest water. Vanessa realized that in order for him to put her down on her feet, she would have to loop an arm around his neck, which would bring their faces quite close. Would he try to repeat his previous unspoken request with greater force?

No. She knew him well enough now. He had avoided even touching her without her consent except when absolutely necessary. He would make no move in this new, unsettling, matter without her express permission, especially since she had just given him a clear answer out in the water.

Vanessa put her arm around Adam's neck as firmly as she was able and he gently set her down. She wobbled a second, then steadied herself without his help. She turned to face him.

He stood there with moon and water glinting on his skin. She could not see any of his face; it was all heavily in shadow. If he wore any expression at all as he looked at her it was impossible to tell.

Vanessa was suddenly struck by the impropriety of the moment. She had discarded her beautiful dress before leaving the cave in favor of swimming only in her thin shift rather than have to wash the dress again. Even when dry, the shift revealed parts of her that only a husband should see. Wet, it revealed still more. Vanessa felt her face burning and wondered why she had not been embarrassed the entire evening. Discarding the dress had seemed the most logical option at the time. Now she wished she had thought to change into one of her plainer dresses.

What was wrong with her? She had seen Adam in nothing at all for days on end. She had told him the truth in saying she had made the breeches for him and not because his nakedness embarrassed her.

The problem, she unhappily admitted to herself, was that up until that evening she had been viewing Adam in her mind as something other than human. No matter how many times she reminded herself, she had persisted in this thinking until the moment when she realized that he even _thought _of kissing her. Now that reality had hit her hard there was no going back. How innocent and naïve she'd been!

At least her hair, wet and limp though it was, provided some protection. Vanessa shrugged in what she hoped was a subtle way, to bring more locks around to cover her front.

"Are you cold?" he asked. "You should change into something warmer."

"Yes," she agreed, grateful for his misinterpretation of her movement. "I will bid you goodnight." She started up the beach, the sand still warm from the day's heat between her toes, then thought of something and turned back. "Thank you very much for the lovely evening."

"Goodnight, Miss Swift."

Only once she was safely among the trees did she turn to look back. He was gone from the beach, as she had expected, but far out to sea, right in the center of the moonlight's path across the water she saw the slice of a single curved fin disturbing the otherwise tranquil ripples.

_Author's Note: Yikes, it's been a long time since I worked on this story. A lot's happened since I posted the last chapter, so much that I don't think I have the space to explain exactly why this is so long in coming to you. Suffice it to say things piled up and this story got shoved to the background in my mind for awhile. Thanks to the clearing up of my workload and a few new inspirations for future plot developments I finally pick up where I left off. I hope you're not too mad at me. Thanks for coming back. If you're a new reader just picking up this story because it's suddenly updated, welcome!_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	17. Bittersweet and Strange

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Robin, 2017**

It had been quite a shock to Robin, once she was out of the Animus for the day and able to look back on her most recent session, to realize that Adam was in love with Vanessa. Like her ancestress, she had been thinking of him as the Leviathan: a creature. A monster. Incapable of human feeling, though she had accepted the fact that he had once been human with relative ease. It was an odd paradox, but she could easily identify with Vanessa's confusion as to how to respond to her sudden revelations. Robin at least had the benefit of some objective observation, being less emotionally invested once she was actually outside the Animus.

Kyle was very interested in this latest development in the story as well. The moment they sat down to dinner, chili and cornbread this time, he asked, "So what was it like to really experience that night sky? The view looked amazing on the screen." He grinned at her. "I'm massively jealous you got to see that in 3D."

"It was incredible. It's so peaceful and quiet that far out to sea. And I never realized how dark the sky really is. Even here on the island there's some light pollution. Vanessa and Adam are really lucky not to have to deal with that."

"Night was still really mysterious and scary back then, too," he reminded her.

"Believe me, I know," Robin said. "Vanessa used to always be afraid at night that someone would break into their family nook in London, steal what little they had, and hurt her and her parents. She's really relaxed about so many of her anxieties since being on the island. I don't think she even realizes how happy and free she feels now in comparison with the past."

"Having the Leviathan there probably helps a lot," Kyle pointed out.

Robin knew what he was getting at. "It's funny. She was so terrified of him at first. But now they've developed this bond that keeps them inching closer and closer, and that neither of them seems to know what to do with."

"He loves her," said Kyle.

"You saw that too," sighed Robin. "I didn't realize it until I came out of the Animus. I'm pretty sure she doesn't know, or won't let herself see, how much he cares."

"Wow." Kyle paused to chew thoughtfully. "You know, I really feel for this guy."

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, this is a really nasty situation. He can't change what he is, short of a miracle. And she can't help being afraid of him."

"Nor should she." Robin shuddered slightly at Vanessa's memories. "Those teeth."

Kyle nodded, acknowledging her words, but when he spoke, his voice was oddly hollow. "If she really loved him back, she'd try to see him for what he is and not her outward impressions of him."

Robin was a little taken aback by this, and somewhat indignant on Vanessa's part. "That's easy to say, two hundred and fifty years removed."

Kyle didn't answer, turning instead to attack his chili with unnecessary force. Robin realized with astonishment she must have hit a sensitive point with him. Perhaps an unhappy ending to a previous romance?

"Kyle, I'm sorry."

He looked up at her. "Really?" He sounded half-amused, half-annoyed.

Stung by his reaction; she had been trying to be nice about a subject that clearly bothered him, Robin turned angrily to her own chili. "Never mind."

She heard a sound like a sigh, then silence. She swallowed her own mouthful, and took another, and another. Still silence. Robin swallowed again, and hazarded a glance. Kyle seemed lost in thought, staring not at his food, but at her. Her scalp prickled and she could feel her cheeks getting hot, but she brushed over both to say casually, "Kyle? You OK?"

He blinked. "Huh? I must have zoned out for a second. What did you say?"

"Nothing. You were staring at me."

"I was?" Robin noticed a tinge of color on his pale cheeks. "Sorry. I was…thinking."

"What were you thinking about?"

Kyle shook his head a few times and really seemed to focus on her face. "Man, staring at that screen without my brain engaged has really made me out of it. I was trying to think of something interesting for us to do tonight. Do you want to do another movie?"

"Maybe another night." She gave him a smile at his startled expression. "You were just now complaining about staring at a screen without your brain engaged. Half the fun of the last time was pestering you for answers. How can I bother you if you're all zoned out the entire time?"

His eyes narrowed in a glare, but his mocking smile belied any pretended irritation. "Well then, Miss Grey, what would you propose we do?"

"What's in this room that engages your brain but won't put me to sleep?"

"Very funny." He paused, thinking. "Would you like to learn some simple animation tricks? I won't teach you how I built the programming behind it; you can just play with the tools."

This was not what she had expected him to come up with. But really, what_ had_ she expected? Him to whip out a board game from under his desk? Even the movies themselves were hidden in his equipment.

"I'd love to," she said.

"C'mon, then," he held out his hand.

Robin hesitated a second. A buzzing sense of déjà vu was at the back of her mind, but she couldn't think of where she might have been in this situation before. Or why it was sending up a small alert flag. She mentally scoffed at it. There was nothing to worry about. She took the offered hand and allowed him to lead her to the computer. It occurred to her that were they in slightly different clothes he might be escorting her to a formal event of some kind. The image should have been absurd, but instead it made her smile.

"Here." Kyle sat her in his usual chair by the computer, then leaned across her to click icons on the desktop and type commands. She caught a brief whiff of the soap he used and tried to place it. Old Spice, maybe? Whatever it was, it smelled nice.

Kyle stepped back, breaking her reverie when the glow from the computer hit her eyes. On the screen was a long list of files with names like "Pineforest," "CountryCottage1," "TopofMountEverest," "SpookyHauntedMansion5," and other titles that were clearly place or scenario names. Some of them looked very generic and often had multiple possibilities such as the Country Cottage series. Others were considerably more exotic, such as Tranquility Base on the moon.

"Scroll through and pick a scene you like," Kyle instructed, though she could have figured this out for herself. As instructed, however, she began to scroll. For all the scenarios, there were thousands of possibilities. Sometimes she came across a series of files that were clearly different rooms in a house. It looked like Kyle had created an entire 36-room haunted Victorian mansion, and then its counterpart when the house was new.

"It's for a movie I've been working on," he explained when she asked. "Ghosts are fun to animate, especially when they fade in and out."

"Will you show me some of your movie?"

"Maybe later. You still want to play with the animation tools, right?"

"Of course!" She turned back to the list, but she was somewhat intrigued and ended up choosing a room from the mansion—the dilapidated, cobwebby version of the ballroom. When the room came up, she was not sorry she had made the selection. It was incredibly detailed down to the grit caught in the cobwebs in the corners. As she used the virtual walkaround feature to move through the room she could see that it had 'once' been elegant. Underneath the grime of years and the dead leaves from the broken floor-to-ceiling windows was a fine parquet wood floor ranging in color from creamy oak to fine cinnamon. The walls were peach with flecks of real gold paint that glittered under the dark mold stains that spackled the walls like paint flung carelessly from a brush. What was left of the tattered drapes were burgundy velvet edged with gold fringe, and the candelabra and chandeliers were gold beneath the dust. Incongruously to the unoccupied state of the room, the candles were lit and sent eerie shadows around the room. It was so real it might as well have been a recording rather than a digital room.

"Kyle…" Robin whispered in awe. "This is _beautiful_."

He grinned. "It's good to know my work is appreciated. This one took me three months to build."

"Three months?"

"Well, I built the original—you know, the undamaged one—first. That took about a month to get it exactly where I wanted it. Then I had to work the computer through the decaying process for the entire house, putting in variables for weather damage when the windows broke, animals sneaking in, the life cycle of mold. Things like that. This is where it ended up, after fifty years or so of neglect. I can now reverse the process back through the years using the programming I created, or continue the aging until the house is nothing but foundations. This is the age I selected for my haunted mansion movie, so that's why all of the rooms for that particular time period are saved here."

"How old were you when you did all this?" asked Robin, still somewhat awed.

"Hmmm." He considered. "Sixteen. I had given up on animation as a serious career possibility, but like I've told you, these kinds of pet projects are good to work on when I'm stressed. There are no final exams in a digital world you've created yourself."

"I guess not. But what a world to retreat to!" Robin sat back in her chair with a sigh. "I'd live in this house, ghosts and all. Even under the dust, it has a…warmth to it that my parents' house has always lacked, though some parts of it were just as nice. This house was loved before…well, before whatever happened to it. I can tell."

Kyle looked surprised and impressed. "You might have just read what was in my mind when I created the house. Maybe I will show the movie to you someday."

A thought occurred to her. "You haven't shown it to anyone else, have you?" she asked.

"No, I haven't."

She could guess why fairly easily. He said his mother had died when he was fifteen. His thing for ghosts and haunted houses might well stem from that. There were probably some things in this movie of his that were too personal for him to show just anyone. It was touching that he thought it was all right for her to see it.

"All right, I've picked my scenario. What's the next step?" she asked.

"Right! Sorry. Here," he leaned over her again and typed a few things more. Now the screen showed a 3-D blank doll-like figure on the left hand side and on the right a series of sidebars to click on with titles like "Face Shape," "Eye Color," "Lips," and so on down to "Clothing," and "Accessories."

"Go at it," he said with a grin. "When you're done, just save it under an appropriate file name."

"Won't you be bored?" she asked, staring at all the possible choices. "This could take awhile."

"Nah," he said with a flap of his hand, but Robin wasn't sure she believed it.

"How about this? I'll create a character, and then let you have the computer so you can create one, and we'll make them interact in the ballroom," she suggested.

His eyes brightened, and she knew she'd been right about him getting bored. "You're on," he said. "In the meantime…" He stretched out on the floor with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes with a smile on his face. "I'll be thinking up my character."

"That doesn't look very comfortable," she said.

"Would you rather I peer over your shoulder while you work?" he asked, opening one eye to peer owlishly at her.

She made a face. "No."

"All right then." He closed the eye again. The smile reappeared. Robin wondered briefly what he was thinking of. Something ridiculous, she was sure. Well, she'd show him! She'd make her character look like him, and then whatever it was he was cooking up would have to interact with a digitized version of himself. She turned to the screen with a grin and began scrolling through facial features.

Having Kyle beside her as an unwitting model was very helpful. In the end, she was very pleased with the result. She'd even managed to recreate his typical hairstyle and the black eyebrow bar. The presence of these options made her wonder if he'd ever created a digital self before. In keeping with the dilapidated ballroom theme, she dressed the animated Kyle in a nineteenth-century tailcoat ensemble complete with top hat and gold-topped cane, but was delighted to discover that she could add creases and patches. Still, even with the slight rustication of his garments she had to admit the formal look suited him. The length and tailored cut of the coat emphasized his height without making him look like a beanpole. Even the ruffled white cravat at his neck—which she only discovered when she accidentally clicked on it, in the normal scheme of things she would have had no idea what a 'cravat' was, let alone thought of using it—added healthier tones to his pale skin. When she was entirely satisfied, she saved the character as instructed under the name 'Robin's Ballroom Character.'

"Your turn," she said to Kyle once she had found the blank template doll and brought it up again. "And no fair peeking!"

"I won't," he promised. "You, either."

Robin had thought it would be maddening having to lie on the hard floor with her eyes closed while Kyle made his own creation, but she had underestimated her own tiredness and slipped quickly into a peaceful state. She was fairly certain she did not fall completely asleep because she remained aware of the clicks from the mouse and the tapping of fingers on keys. She hadn't had to use the keyboard at all, so she knew he was creating new options for himself. He must really be going all out. She allowed her lips to turn ever so slightly upwards. If he was doing something outrageous, he was in for a surprise.

"Done," he finally said. "What name did you save—never mind, I see the file. I'm inputting both characters into the haunted house ballroom. Come up and we'll take a look at what we've got."

Robin got up stiffly, rubbing feeling back into her shoulders. First the ballroom reappeared on the screen in its wonderful, incredible detail. Then the two characters appeared standing side-by-side in the room's center, facing forward. Robin almost jumped back in surprise when she saw what Kyle's character was. Out of the corner of her vision she saw a flash of white as Kyle's own eyes grew round.

They'd each created a version of each other. Not only that, but the versions could have been made to compliment. Kyle had dressed Robin in one of the full-skirted ballgowns you saw in pictures of the Civil War, a match for the tailcoat the digital Kyle wore. Examining the figures, Robin thought the one that looked like her might in fact be an amalgamation of herself and Vanessa. The character's brown hair was far longer than her own and confined at the nape of the neck, though she was pretty sure it still had the blond highlights. The gown itself, although in a vastly different style, was the same color as the blue gown Adam had given Vanessa and sprinkled all over with tiny diamonds that might as well have been salt crystals. If she looked closely, however, Robin could see that the figure had a small crystal stud in its nose. It was definitely her, dressed for a ghost ball in the past.

Robin and Kyle both stared at the screen, then turned to each other in the same moment.

"Did you…?" Robin finally ventured.

"_No_," replied Kyle firmly, and Robin knew he was telling the truth. His surprise at seeing her creation pretty much confirmed that he had not sneaked a peek at her file while her eyes were closed. Somehow their minds had just hit on the same idea.

They both stared at the screen awhile longer before Kyle blinked. "Well, a deal's a deal. They have to do _something _together."

"What else can they do but dance?" Robin asked. The idea was somewhat awkward, considering the characters, but she was curious now. She couldn't dance at all in real life, but this digital self could do anything.

"That's going to take some coordination, but it's certainly possible." He called up a box on the screen and began typing. Then he brought up another and typed more commands. Beneath the boxes, their characters turned to one another and bowed and curtsied as appropriate. "Can't start without that," said Kyle absently, typing away.

Under his skillful fingers the characters came to life. They stepped forward slowly, eyes on each other, and took their positions. Robin recognized the hold of a waltz from occasional TV shows and movies. Then they began to move, and it ceased to be _like_ a movie and really became one. Robin had sometimes wondered what it would be like to be a movie star, and while this wasn't quite the same thing it had an edge of that kind of thrill. Kyle even had the pair perform a few more complicated moves, mostly involving his character spinning hers. Finally, they stopped and bowed to each other again, Robin's character sinking low so that her blue silk skirts billowed out gorgeously around her. Then they froze. If Robin hadn't known they were both digital she would have winced at two people having to hold that position for so long.

Kyle turned to her and grinned. "What do you think?"

"You're…really good," she finally said.

"Thanks, but that's not what I meant. I was recording all that as if we were going to set it in sequence in a movie. Here, I'll play it back so you can see it without the pauses and command boxes. Then we can work on camera angles and so on."

"There's a lot that goes into this," Robin commented as the whole scene reset itself. This time there were no abrupt hesitations as the characters waited for further commands, everything was fluid and smooth. It really looked like the pair were dancing alone in a haunted house in the light of thousands of flickering candles. Still an odd image, but one she couldn't help liking.

They spent the next few hours editing the motions and camera angles. Robin was particularly fond of the angle that let them watch from directly above the dancers as they spun around the floor, though she blushed at seeing how much cleavage the low-cut dress revealed when seen from that position. Kyle must have made a mistake, or it was some consequence of the way the dress fit. She was fairly certain she wasn't _that _chesty in real life. Not that she could call Kyle out on that point! She was fairly certain she could win the argument, but if she knew Kyle it would probably end in actually _measuring_, an idea she didn't fancy at all. So she had to let the point slide.

Other that small discomfort she enjoyed the evening very much.

"I think that's it," Kyle said, leaning back to stretch. "All we need to do is choose music, but I think that can wait for another night."

"That's fine," agreed Robin, stifling a yawn.

"See you in the morning, then." Kyle smiled at her, and she returned it. "Dream about the music we should choose, belle of the ball."

Not sure how to respond to this, Robin managed just to say, "Good night."

Back in her room, she sat on the edge of her bed. Her palms were sweaty and clammy and there was a light bubbly feeling in her stomach. She felt as if she'd just come back from a first date and now had to sort out her impressions.

She sighed, and leaned back to gaze at the blank ceiling. This was a nice mess she'd gotten herself into. She liked Kyle a lot, certainly, though that was astounding in itself given how their acquaintance had started. And she could no longer deny she was also attracted to him. She couldn't even say it had snuck up on her; she had certainly seen it coming. That was the galling thing. She'd known she couldn't afford feelings for him and had gone and fallen for him anyway, at least in part.

And him? She could no longer afford to be naïve. If she read the signs right, he was well on his way to being head over heels for her. Which only made things worse. They might be having fun now, but what would happen when they had to go their separate ways? If she wanted to stay anonymous, and away from his father, it would be better for them never to contact each other again. A thought she hated. He offered companionship on a level she hadn't even known she would miss when she'd chosen to live a relatively solitary life.

This whole thing was a nasty puzzle and getting more complicated by the day. She couldn't begin to imagine how things were going to work out. And in the meantime, there was the drama between Vanessa and Adam to observe, a drama which was beginning to feel uncomfortably too close to the present time.

_

* * *

Author's Note: Yeah, you can hate me for taking so long. I can't really make it up to you, but I offer a longer-than-usual chapter as an apology._

_Part of the problem was the scene was hard to piece together so it flowed naturally. I'd get to a point and have to stop because I wasn't sure how to move on from there. There has been a lot of rereading involved in this chapter. I had to reread most of the previous chapters, and then every time I stopped I had to go back and reread what I'd just written._

_For those who don't know, a cravat is a sort of ruffled handkerchief that goes at the neck of formal menswear in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Norrington wears one (when he's in uniform) in the Pirates of the Caribbean movies._

_And for those who care, I wrote the 'dance' scene to 'A Moment Like This' by Kelly Clarkson. It probably isn't in ¾ which is technically waltz time, but the words are appropriate._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	18. Think of Me Fondly

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Vanessa, 1767**

Vanessa hadn't gotten much sleep that night. Her body was exhausted from the excursion out to sea, but that was part of the problem. Muscles kept cramping painfully, so that she would have to sit up and move around or rub vigorously to make the agony subside. Even when she wasn't in pain, her brain would not allow her to relax. It kept presenting her with images of Adam. Especially that moment when she'd hung suspended in his arms and his face had come so close to hers, and she'd realized he…what? That he wanted to kiss her. Even worse, that he had feelings for her.

The entire matter made her feel rotten deep inside. Adam deserved better then to be trapped here alone, a monster forever. He was thoughtful and courteous, and possessed a gentle heart; a rare kind of man, indeed. If he were a man.

It kept coming back to that. The fact that he was not human was a stone wall of the type that enclosed the Tower of London: thick and impenetrable, guarded by means she could not begin to understand. She could find no way to surmount it.

"To find something to tie me permanently to the human world with an unshakable bond," he had told her was the only means to end his service to the Sea Goddess. But what did that mean? What manner of thing could bind in so lasting a way?

If he stepped out of the sea, would that break his ties to the ocean? She had already noticed that he was always touching water, no matter what, and it seemed to pain him not to be in contact with it. No, if it were so simple a solution she would already have broken the ties when she had dragged him out of the water after the pirates had wounded him.

What sorts of things bound people to the human world? Possessions, money, perhaps. Impermanent things, none of which he had. Even social obligations like ties to employers eventually came to an end. Not that he had an employer; all of his sea mates had drowned eight or nine years ago. Family? He'd lost contact when he was twelve.

He did have her. His first real human contact in years. But though he clearly had feelings for her, and she reciprocated them to a degree, it was not an unshakable bond. If it were, he would be human again.

How could she face him? Every day she stayed from now on would be painful for both of them. They could pretend that nothing had happened and hope things would go on as they had before, but there would always be that barrier between them.

Eventually she drifted into an uneasy doze but kept twitching awake at any sound, even the wind rustling the palm fronds above her. When she finally got up and dressed around dawn, she felt the exhaustion tugging at the corners of her eyes and knew that if she looked as dreadful as she felt this was going to be a long day.

The sight that met her eyes at the beach made her gasp, both hands going to her mouth. On the normally empty horizon there was the hazy silhouette of a ship. It sails were furled, so it was clearly not going anywhere. Closer to shore, and coming steadily nearer, was a rowboat with a white cloth tied to the bow. Vanessa had to look closely, but not far from the boat was a distinctive pale razor fin.

Her father had returned at last.

_On today of all days, _she thought, and then realized why. She had seen Adam swimming off after their encounter the previous evening. Here he was, leading Edward's boat to shore. He must have come to a similar conclusion that she had after her turbulent night, and decided the best thing for them both was to separate as soon as possible. It made her heart ache; both with the joy at being reunited with her father and at what the decision must have cost Adam.

She ran down to the water's edge, waving frantically. After a moment's hesitation she waded in up to her knees; not far enough for the surf to drag her. The rower in the boat paused a moment to return the wave then continued pushing to shore. In a few moments he came close enough for her to see his features. It was indeed her father.

Vanessa waited in trembling suspense. Soon she could hear the creak of the oars over the waves' pounding.

Edward brought the boat in almost to shore. Vanessa briefly wondered why, then remembered: he couldn't swim. She pulled with all her strength to beach the dinghy, then stood up straight and flung her arms around her father, who had also stood.

"My girl, my Nessie," he kept whispering, stroking her loose hair with one trembling hand. She could hear from his voice that he was close to tears. She didn't trust herself to speak without betraying her own emotions.

Finally, they separated far enough for Vanessa to help Edward out of the boat and onto the sand. Once he was steady on his feet, he surveyed her.

"You _look _well enough," he said. "Too much sun, but I've learned quick enough that that can't be helped here in the islands. And where did this dress come from? I've never seen it before."

"Ad—" Vanessa started, then stopped. "He—" she tried again, and couldn't continue, plucking at the threads of her skirt. "The…Leviathan found it for me." To refer to Adam as the Leviathan again somehow left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

Edward swung around to look at the fin, which sat immobile just past where the surf broke. Beneath the fin Vanessa could occasionally glimpse the white of Adam's back and a few splashes as he lazily stroked his tail to stay in place. She wondered why he didn't transform so that he could talk with them. Then a memory struck: Adam telling her that when a ship was in the vicinity he had to be in his Leviathan form. He could not change, not while the ship was anchored offshore.

They would not be able to say goodbye.

Vanessa felt her elation sink at this. But she tried to cheer herself up by thinking that they'd cross that hill when they came to it.

"He—found you clothing?" Edward stuttered.

"Yes, of course. Oh, Papa, he's not what you think. He's been very kind to me, these weeks you've been gone."

"Indeed." Edward eyed Adam's fin again like any father would eye a man with designs on his daughter. Vanessa would have laughed at his expression had it not been so similar to her own thoughts the previous night. "He hasn't—harmed you in any way?"

"Oh, no, Papa!" Vanessa exclaimed in horror. "He's looked after me very well." _Even when I could not look after myself, _she was tempted to add, but that would entail explaining about the pirates. She did not like imagining her father's reaction to _that_. Worse, he would blame himself for putting her in such danger. She'd gotten herself into that trouble, but Edward would be loath to view it that way.

"Well…" Edward studied her, clearly searching for any evidence that things were not as she said. "You look healthy enough, daughter." The tone in his voice said he still did not believe her, but he'd get the story out of her later. Vanessa restrained a sigh. She did not look forward to that conversation.

"I really am well," she assured him, trying to sound as sincere as possible. She didn't feel well, not with so little sleep and emotional disturbance, but again, that would take far too long to explain.

They were silent for a moment more, then Edward said, matter-of-factly, "Do you have anything you need to fetch?"

"Fetch?"

Edward looked at her oddly. "Of course. Trinkets, things you don't want to leave behind? The tide's turning, and we'll want to take it out to the ship."

Vanessa stared at him, unable to keep the horror from her face. Leave so soon? For some reason she had believed she would have some time to wander the island and say goodbye to the place that had been her home. Now she realized how foolish she had been. Of course Edward would want to leave as soon as possible. Not only were his memories here unpleasant, but he would have some sort of obligations to the ship and captain who had come out so far into what was believed to be open water.

"What's wrong? I would think you'd be happy to go back to civilization. We'll be together again at last."

Vanessa couldn't bear it, the confusion and disappointment and hurt in his voice. She looked away.

"I'm sorry, Papa. I should have thought. But please…" She glanced at where Adam waited patiently in the surf, his fin a white flag. "Give me time to say goodbye."

Edward gave her a look as impossible to decipher as one of Adam's when he was at his most opaque. He said nothing, but he nodded.

Vanessa walked slowly into the surf. When the swells reached her waist she sank in and used the techniques Adam had taught her to reach him, out in the calm behind the worst breakers but before her feet lost touch with the bottom. He raised himself enough out of the water so that she could see his face.

"I—" Vanessa began, with vague ideas of saying something formal about how much her time on the island had meant. Then she saw his eyes. Despite the fact that he was in his Leviathan shape, his eyes had never fully regained their hollow coldness. They were deep, and sad.

The sight of them was too much. Vanessa broke down. Tears streaming freely down her face, she flung her arms around him, heedless of his rough skin. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "So sorry."

How she wished he could talk. Then again, if he had been in his partially human form, it might have been impossible for her to tear herself away. The idea of leaving him here like this to face his curse alone was almost unbearable as it was.

At last she forced herself back. "I understand why you went to fetch my father. I—I don't blame you at all. Everything is my fault." She wiped the tears from her face, only managing to put more salt water there and make her eyes burn worse.

He shook his head from side to side. Then, with a flick of his tail, he propelled himself around her so that she could just feel the tingling brush of his skin against her shoulders. It was close enough to an embrace that she could tell his intentions.

"Oh, Adam…" she whispered. "I wish things were different." She couldn't say more; anything else would only make things worse.

She turned to swim back to shore, only to find him there beside her, offering a fin to tow her one last time. Though she didn't really need it for such a short distance, she accepted. He took her as far as he was able without beaching himself. When she let go, she bent and said, "Goodbye. Thank you for all your kindness. I'll…I'll never forget you. _Never._" He nodded, which she hoped meant to return the sentiments to her. Though she wanted to do so, she did not touch him again.

Edward said nothing as the pair of them climbed into the rowboat, though he must have been watching the entire thing and noted her strange behavior.

Suddenly, Vanessa remembered something. "Wait!" She leapt from the boat again and sprinted for the Fountain cave. The run stretched her still-stiff muscles and made her feel at least somewhat better physically. Once in the cave, she did not even glance at the Fountain. She seized the dresses Adam had given her, including the spectacular blue one, and ran back to the beach. Leaving them for Adam to see would have been cruel. Besides, she had nothing else to wear, and she did want to have something to remember Adam's kindness.

Edward stared when she returned, and opened his mouth. Then he stopped, and shut it again with an audible click of teeth. She knew her father. Clearly he'd sworn to himself not to ask her about the nature of her relationship with the Leviathan until they were away and was finding it difficult not to do so. She was glad to avoid the questions—for now.

Adam swam beside them the entire way to the ship, though as they approached he sank so low that he was a hazy white blur beneath the surface of the water. The ship itself looked respectable enough; at least as respectable as the Lady Swan, and much better than the Black Pearl. Its sails were the usual white, it flew an English flag, and the men of the crew as they peered over the sides were regular seamen. They wore uniforms, so this must be a naval vessel rather than a merchant ship. Just as many men, but at least they had some discipline. With luck they would leave her alone. Vanessa marveled at how little she'd come to worry about harassment when it was only she and Adam on the island.

Just before climbing the rope ladder that had been tossed down for them, she trailed her fingers in the water; subtly, she hoped. Against her fingertips she felt one last brush of rough skin. "Farewell, Adam," she whispered.

Either Edward did not notice her wet hand, or he chose to ignore it. He did help her bundle up her extra dresses for the climb up onto the deck. Vanessa pretended not to notice the stares of the sailors when she appeared, or the mutterings. She did catch the words "…just appeared…" and suppressed a small smile. Of course they couldn't see the island. To them, she had appeared out of nowhere.

The captain stood waiting for them by the door to the forecastle. He was an average-sized man with brown hair and a slightly extravagant mustache. He nodded in her direction, and she curtsied in return, but he refrained from speaking until Edward hand joined his daughter.

"Well, Mister Swift, I see you were telling the truth. You have recovered your missing daughter."

"May I present my daughter, Vanessa?" Edward said formally. "Nessie, this is Captain White. I managed to tell him our story when I finally reached Port Royal. He was kind enough to give me the chance to prove the veracity of what I told him."

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Swift." Captain White actually kissed her hand, which startled her and made her instantly like him. "Your father's story intrigued me. My wife often tells me I have far too soft a heart for a Navy man; I couldn't resist. I managed to gain my superiors' permission by telling them I had heard word of a new island that might merit exploring."

"There is an island," Vanessa admitted cautiously. "But there is nothing there of interest. I explored every part of it in my time there. It is very small; far too small to plant anything, and there are no natives."

"Truly a desert isle, then. It's a miracle you survived, Miss."

"Indeed it is, and I thank God for returning my daughter to me," Edward interjected.

"Ah. And you'll be wanting some privacy," Captain White said perceptively. He asked no more penetrating questions, but turned away and began giving orders to the mates. As Edward led her into the forecastle, she heard the creak of the windlass as the anchor was raised. She spared one last glance over her shoulder towards the island. But of course there was nothing to see; only the sun sparkling on the ocean. She turned her burning eyes away, blinking to rid them of her tears.

_Author's Note: Yeah, I'd want to kill me too at this point. Not only do I take forever to update, but I leave you with something like that to ponder on. I really didn't want to write this chapter, for obvious painful reasons. I can't promise on the speed of more updates, I've got another project going, plus my life is insane while I research for two long history papers._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	19. Voyage of Heartache

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Vanessa, 1767**

Edward was already opening his mouth the moment the door to his cabin, now to be shared by the pair of them, closed. Luckily, Vanessa was quicker.

"Papa, before you ask me anything, please tell me your story. What happened after you left the island?"

Her father glared at her, but he obliged. "There is pitifully little to tell. I drifted for days in that tiny boat, certain I was about to die and that I had left you to certain death as well. I was picked up by another merchant ship that had also been blown off course by that storm. They lost part of their mast and were traveling slowly, but not so badly disabled that they had to stop entirely. They took me to Port Royal, their original destination. I was unable to find any information on the crew and passengers of the Lady Swan, and was lucky to encounter Captain White. He took pity on me. That is the whole story."

"What did you tell him happened to me? You didn't tell him about—"

Edward held up his hands. "Now, now, Nessie, no need to snap. I'm no simpleton. Of course I did not tell him—nor anyone else—about the Leviathan. They'd only think I'd gone mad with days on the open sea, to babble about giant sea monsters. I only told him I'd had to leave you on the island because there was room for one in the boat. Perfectly true."

Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief, perching herself on her father's berth. There would be no one sailing off to hunt Adam. Additionally, her father did not know about the Fountain, so there was less chance of anyone accidentally stumbling over that knowledge either. That secret she planned to take to her grave.

"Now," Edward said, crossing his arms and looking at her fiercely. Vanessa braced herself. She had known since he first landed on the beach that this was coming.

"Now that we're away from that horrible creature," Edward continued. Vanessa winced. "You can tell me what _really _happened."

"Oh, Papa, no! I told you the truth! Adam wasn't horrible. Not in the least. We had our misunderstandings at first, but after we grew used to each other he took excellent care of me. He was so kind, and thoughtful. He—"

"Adam?" interjected Edward.

"His name. His true name. He hasn't always been the Leviathan, Papa. He was once human, but he has been bound to that magical island by—" she stumbled slightly but recovered, "—by a curse. He can only be free if he finds something to bind him to the mortal world. Or if…he's destroyed." She looked at her lap.

Edward sat beside her. "I should have suspected it…he…had once been human." He said nothing else for a time.

Eventually, Vanessa laid her head on his shoulder. "Papa, I feel dreadful. He had nearly forgotten what it was to be human, and simply by being around me he started to remember. But he can never be human again, short of a miracle. I feel it would have been better for him if we had never met. At least then he would be happier with his lot, if he never knew what he was missing."

"Nessie…" Edward stroked her hair. The tone of his voice seemed to indicate a revelation was slowly dawning on him. "You care for this Adam, don't you?"

"He is the best man I have ever known, save for you, Papa."

"High praise indeed. And I can scarce believe it is coming out of your mouth. My Nessie, who fears she will be trifled with by any passing man, saying such things of the most terrifying-looking man in the world."

Vanessa blushed. "He is a gentle person, but I never entirely forgot what he was. How could I, when he has the teeth of a savage beast?"

"I have no answer for you, Vanessa. I am not certain I could have forgotten even to the extent that you seem to have done. You didn't seem to fear him, even in the water when you were entirely at his mercy. You went out to him willingly."

"He would never harm me! At least, not deliberately," Vanessa amended. "He _is_ capable of great harm. I won't deny it. But he was always careful with me."

"A man will often take exquisite care of a woman he—" Edward stopped.

Vanessa's heart sank. She should have known her father would draw such a conclusion. Was it so obvious, even from someone who had seen her interactions with Adam for only a few minutes?

"I know of his feelings for me, Papa."

"And still you chose to leave?" It was hard to believe this was the same man who had been confused and hurt that his daughter had not wanted to leave the Leviathan's island earlier. Vanessa vaguely realized she had underestimated her father in how much he perceived. She had always seen him as too caught up in his inventions to notice the rest of the world around him. Now she realized that he saw far more than she could have imagined, at least when it came to his daughter.

"I knew of his feelings. He cared about me deeply. Too deeply. I didn't—couldn't—return them. We both realized I couldn't stay any longer. That's why he came to fetch you."

"I wondered why he appeared when we were still so far out. It was a good thing he did. I don't think we would have found the place, not without a map to guide us…"

"He did what he thought was right."

"And do you agree with him?"

Vanessa sighed. A few rebel tears dripped down her cheeks. "It's for the best. But it hurts so to have to leave him like that. He will be so alone."

"Dearest…" Edward pulled her into an embrace. "We came to the Caribbean to start a new life. Do you want to return to the island? The crew will talk, of course, and there won't be any human contact, but if it would make you happy…"

"Oh, Papa." Vanessa sighed. The offer meant a great deal, but— "Going back would only make things worse. I cannot give him what he wants from me. It would be better for him to forget me." She paused. "I only pray he can."

"Very well. You're a woman now, Nessie, and it is your decision."

Vanessa sighed and buried her face in her father's chest, as she had not done since she was a child. She didn't feel like a woman. She just felt tired, and sad, and empty.

Edward seemed to understand that she didn't want to talk anymore. He just held her for awhile until she drew away from him of her own accord.

"I think I will go see what they have in the galley by way of dinner," he said.

"Thank you, Papa." He stood and went to the door, and she curled up on the berth. Just as he was about to step out, she raised her head off the straw pallet and said, "Papa? I love you."

He smiled back at her. "I love you, too, sweet. Things will look better when we reach Port Royal. We can pick up where we left off: starting over."

Vanessa put her head back down, but tried to smile in case Edward could see her face. The door shut.

Edward meant well, and she was grateful to him for all he had given her. She just could not summon up a great deal of enthusiasm about the idea of 'starting over' at the moment. But perhaps Edward was right: things might begin to look brighter when they reached Port Royal. Maybe then she could start putting things behind her. She lay back and closed her eyes, letting the motion of the ship rock her to sleep.

-0-0-

_The blue mist soothes any lingering dry sensation around the eyes left over from tears._

_The voice speaks as expected. "Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

-0-0-

Vanessa shut the door to the cabin for the last time with a firm snap. The voyage to Port Royal had taken just four days, and in that time she had become somewhat reconciled to leaving Adam. She couldn't think about him without being seized with guilt and sorrow, but the what-if scenarios had begun to fade.

Throughout the voyage the sailors had kept their distance. She heard mutters when she passed, but what little she caught were superstitious oaths and wards against the Evil Eye. Vanessa did not really find this alarming. Adam had once told her that sailors saw omens and bad luck everywhere, including in the mere presence of a woman onboard ship. He had laughed a little at that, saying they had no idea of either real magic or true bad luck. For the sailors now to see her as half-witch was understandable, as she had appeared from a nonexistent island by means of magic, even if that magic was not her own. As she was a guest of the captain, they could do no more to her than mutter when she walked across the deck for air.

Captain White had been nothing but considerate the entire voyage. He invited Vanessa and Edward to dine with him and his mates every evening. He asked no prying questions, though he did make lively conversation about life in London. It turned out that he had risen to his station from a cabin boy after having spent his first few years not far from the Swifts' former residence. He spoke affectionately about his wife at nearly every opportunity. She was a widow of his age, which was about thirty-five, with three children of her own as well as their own two small youngsters. He often referred to her his 'better half.'

"She saw something good in me that I wasn't even aware I possessed," he once declared. "I was the usual breed of bachelor seaman before I met her. Now I am quite the reformed character, aren't I gents?" he asked his mates. All of them shared a chuckle, and a toast to the reforming nature of women.

Such talk occasionally made Vanessa's guts squirm, but it was all innocent and certainly not aimed at her own experience. She tried to take pleasure in human conversation; conversation that did not involve studiously ignoring the other person's teeth. Still, she did not speak much at meals except when someone asked her a question. One difference that even she noted from before her time on the island, however, was that she no longer shied away by instinct when any of the men spoke to her. They were nowhere close to being as intimidating as Adam in countenance.

Now the time had come to dock. Vanessa wanted to watch the process from the bow, and she did not plan on returning to the cabin.

Port Royal was a gorgeous tropical seaside town that spread from the edges of the expansive docks up to the rich folks' houses high on a lightly forested hill set back from the water of its bay. The water itself was a clear turquoise that allowed one to see all the way to the sand bottom. Lined up on the edge of the bay like an oddly bare forest were at least five full-sized ships: two Royal Navy and three merchant, from what Vanessa could see. On the massive cliffs to the left of the docks towered mortared stone fortifications that protected town and harbor. Here and there were patches of stone of a slightly different shade, showing repairs. At some point in its history this harbor had been attacked, and quite viciously if the sheer number of repairs was any indication.

"Miss." Captain White had come to stand beside her. When she looked at him, he touched his hat to her and she dipped a curtsy. He had put on his most formal uniform for their return to port.

"Captain." Then, because she could not restrain her curiosity, she queried, "What happened here? It looks as if Port Royal was attacked." She pointed out the repairs to the fortress.

"Indeed it was. You are quite observant, Miss Swift. I was stationed here at the time, though not in the lofty position I now happily hold. I was a midshipman serving under Commodore James Norrington. Perhaps you've heard of him? No? His exploits against pirates in the Caribbean were legend in his day. He was a fine man, but he's been dead a few years now. In any case, we were here the night of the attack. It was a single pirate ship that did all that damage, in just a few hours of shelling. The Black Pearl."

Vanessa snapped her head around. Captain White raised his eyebrows at her reaction. "I take it you've heard of that demon ship."

"Yes. Yes, I have." _More than heard of it, I have been aboard, _she was tempted to add, but to do so would have been forced her to explain, something she could not do without bringing Adam and the Fountain of Youth into the tale. "Please continue, Captain."

"That was a dreadful night." Captain White's eyes were glazed and sad. "I have fought pirates in my career, but that was the first and only time I have seen them attack civilians like marauding Vikings of old. Rumor after the battle said they were looking for something, or someone, to dare take on a peaceful law-abiding town. Whatever it was, they must have found it, because they sailed away with the governor's daughter as a hostage that very night. An expedition was formed that later brought her back.

"I stayed behind to assist with putting the town and fortress back together. A job that took many long months and much heartache to finally complete. We were lucky no other pirates took advantage of the weakness of our defenses. But we managed, and many of us are still proud to call this town our home when we have leave." He paused. "You will like it here, I hope."

"Thank you, Captain. That is my hope as well." She gave him a small smile, and he turned to begin giving docking instructions. While they had been speaking, the ship had come up to the docks, giving a better view of the bustling town. People dressed in all colors, with all shades of skin, mingled freely in the nearby market. A few glanced up to see which ship was coming in; even less noticed Vanessa at the bow.

It was strange to hear tell of the Black Pearl's exploits from years before, but from the look of Barbossa and his crew it did not surprise her to hear they had viciously attacked an unsuspecting town at night in order to find something they wanted. Perhaps they had been chasing the chart to the Fountain of Youth. She wondered if Jack Sparrow had been involved.

"Nessie." Edward put a hand on her shoulder. "We're about to dock. Come along."

They waited at the rail while the gangplank was lowered. When all was complete, Captain White and his mates came up and stood in a row to say goodbye.

"I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for us," Edward said. He shook hands with each of them.

The captain waved his left hand magnanimously. "It was an excuse to get out of port instead of sitting on our backsides waiting for the next rumor of pirates. We were pleased to do you a service, even if it was in the name of exploration."

The mates nodded to Vanessa, who curtsied in return. "I do thank you all as well for coming so far to restore me to my father." She had carefully rehearsed this earlier so that she could thank them genuinely and not with any sort of lie about the ambiguity she still felt about returning to civilization. She owed them that much in courtesy.

Captain White smiled and kissed her hand, as he had on their first meeting. "We wish you and your father well, Miss Swift." He looked at Edward. "You truly have a fine daughter, Mister Swift. It is easy to understand why you would go to such lengths to recover her."

Vanessa blushed. Edward smiled and said, "Thank you, sir. I owe you more than I can repay. If there is every anything I can do for you, please look me up here in Port Royal."

"Very well. I expect the same from you, then, Mister Swift." The Captain nodded shortly. Edward nodded in return, and then he ushered Vanessa off the ship and onto the dock. Vanessa shaded her eyes to glance at the towering fortress to the left again, then at the wealthy folks' homes peeking between the palm trees. Both seemed much more intimidating when seen from the ground. They had arrived in Port Royal at last.

_

* * *

Author's Note: Don't ask me how I managed to get this one off in such a short time; there are a million other things I should be doing. I can only say my head is in the world of Echoes of the Heart for now and I'm taking advantage of it. Once again, can't promise an orderly timetable on further updates. Thank you all for being so supportive and understanding._

_SamoaPhoenix9_

_P.S. A note on calling Norrington a 'fine' man. He's one of my favorite characters from Black Pearl and World's End (he's obnoxious in Dead Man's Chest and needs a good smack in the face), so I gave him this small eulogy. Despite his personal faults of ambition and so on, I think the men under him would have thought he was great for getting rid of so many pirates, setting an example, etc, etc… On a personal note, I'd probably go for someone like him rather than like Jack or Will._


	20. Kidnap at Port Royal

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Vanessa, 1767**

_"Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

-0-0-

Vanessa and Edward stepped together out of the inn they had stayed in the previous evening. It was on the poor side of Port Royal, all they could afford with the money Edward had gotten fixing various things aboard Captain White's ship. Still, it was better than sleeping in the street. Vanessa still had her flute in her pocket, and if all else failed she planned to sit for awhile in the market and play for a few coins so that they could buy some bread in the evening. The morning, however, was to be spent searching for a position as a kitchen maid in one of the more prosperous homes set back from the main town. Edward would be finding the local blacksmith and carpenters and demonstrating his skill in building things. With luck, their position as paupers in Port Royal would change before the week was out.

The docks and the market were behind them as they surveyed the civilian parts of town. They had to take different streets to reach their destinations.

"Well." Edward said. They looked at each other, and he embraced her lightly and kissed her cheek. "I know this is a lot to put on you on your first day, but…"

"I understand. I won't let you down, Papa."

"Perhaps I can be of assistance," said a light voice from behind them.

Father and daughter spun around, and Vanessa could not help shrinking closer to Edward. The man who surveyed them calmly from the edge of the market, dressed as if for a day aboard his ship, was none other than Captain Kerry of the Lady Swan. Vanessa had forgotten how imposing he was. She had _not_ forgotten the last time they had spoken, nor his possessive, bruising grip on her arm.

Edward, however, had no way of knowing of his daughter's reluctance. She had never told him about Kerry's 'offer' when he had cornered her aboard the Lady Swan. He went forward and jovially shook Kerry's hand. "It's good to see you're alive, sir."

"And you, Mister Swift. Although I must admit to a great deal of surprise on my part considering—circumstances." Kerry shot Vanessa a look over Edward's head that did not bode well. He had not been surprised at all to find them alive; in fact, she got the distinct feeling he had come looking for them. She sent him a composed look in return that attempted to mask her nerves.

Edward, oblivious to this, was continuing to speak. "I trust the rest of the crew and passengers of the Lady Swan made it here safely as well."

"Indeed they did," the Captain replied suavely. "Our financiers were naturally deeply upset to hear about the loss of a ship, but they understand that we—the crew and myself—made every effort to save her, and its two missing passengers. They also understand that business must continue. They have already granted us another vessel, the Siren Princess."

"We're very pleased to hear that," Edward said. He seemed unaware that Vanessa was where he had left her, several paces away. "We wish you luck, but we have business to attend to if we're to eat tonight." He started to turn towards Vanessa.

"But you must join us," Captain Kerry said calmly. Without warning, men seemed to spring up from nowhere to surround Vanessa and Edward. Edward jumped and rushed to put a protective arm around his daughter, but Vanessa had somehow been expecting something like this the moment Kerry had appeared. Not that she could have done anything to halt it. She did indulge a brief 'what-if' wish for Adam's comforting, intimidating presence, but put it out of her mind.

"What do you want with us?" she demanded, hating the similarity of the words to her first conversation with the captain.

He smirked. "I think you know, Miss Swift."

"What? How could I?" With her eyes she tried to make clear that the answer to his previous question, if he was putting forth a suit to become his lover again, was a firm _no_.

"But you must have some idea. Don't pretend innocence." He waited for her reaction, but when none came he shrugged. "Very well. We recently came into possession of a certain failed pirate captain and the interesting set of charts he'd stolen off a rival."

Vanessa put both her hands to her mouth before she could stop herself. Now she knew precisely to what he was referring. Jack Sparrow must have gotten the map to the Fountain island off Barbossa somehow and escaped the Black Pearl, only to fall into the hands of Kerry and his sailors.

"Ah, I knew if I jogged your memory you'd remember the man. He certainly remembers you. He believed you'd been devoured by some sea monster, but clearly he's wrong on that point. Still, when he described you I knew immediately of whom he spoke. What other woman compares with your delicate beauty?"

Vanessa clenched her fists and looked at him coldly. "The Leviathan exists," she said, hoping to frighten this dreadful man away from this new mission. "He can—and will—prevent you from finding what you seek."

"Yet somehow you were swallowed by the creature, and escaped. It seems there is more to this story than either you or Mister Sparrow are telling." He waved his hand. "No matter. You, my dear, clearly have some affiliation with the creature, to have encountered it so closely and survived. When I heard the story, I knew I must bring you along as a good-luck charm."

"I won't go anywhere with you," she declared.

His eyes flickered; she'd surprised him. "You'll find you have no choice. Your father comes as well, if that was bothering you. To ensure you'll do as we say."

"You _snake_," she hissed. Seeing him unmoved, she tried again. "_Bastard_."

This time he spun and his eyes went wide. Even his men shifted uneasily. "What did you say?"

"Son of a—"

He put a rough hand over her mouth to keep her from continuing. "What _happened _to you?" he demanded. "You're not the charming fearful thing I remember."

She pulled her face away; he smelled of old seawater, iron, and gunpowder. "I spent a great deal of time around sailors at the inn where I grew up, and picked up a word here and there." She met his eyes, and smiled slightly through her own terror. "And I've faced things that I daresay would make even a man like you tremble."

He studied her carefully. "You're serious. You and the pirate both. You truly believe in this monster…this Leviathan."

Vanessa said nothing. She waited for him to pronounce her and Jack Sparrow mad.

"Well." He looked at the blue sky for a moment, as if asking for strength, then back at her. "That means we shall have to take along extra gunpowder, doesn't it?" He gestured to his men.

Bitter horror shot through Vanessa as if the gunpowder he'd just spoken of had been shoved down her throat. She might very well have condemned Adam, if Captain Kerry spoke the truth.

"No—wait!" she wailed. She started after the captain's retreating back, but one of the men grabbed her and held her arms. "You can't—" When he turned to face her again, she said, as firmly as possible, "I won't cooperate."

"You'll find I can, Miss Swift. Your wishes don't enter into it. I have everything I need. I have the map, and Mister Sparrow to interpret it. I have extra firepower and shot, enough to take on the entire Royal Navy in the Caribbean if I had to. And I have you. Perhaps if the creature was loath to harm you once, he will at least hesitate at harming you again. A good luck charm, as I said. Now, come along. We've wasted enough time already."

Vanessa would have said more, if only to wipe the smug look off his face, but one of the men put a hand over her mouth. Her knees buckled slightly as the weight of what was happening fully sank in. They were going back to the island. And Captain Kerry planned to destroy Adam rather than let him stand between himself and the Fountain of Youth. Oh, she'd been wrong ever to think Adam a monster. A true monster strode only a few paces before her, wearing human skin.

They were nearly to the docks before Vanessa could get her feet under her; she'd been half-dragged through the market. People turned to look at the group, and some with concern, but they backed away when one of Kerry's men subtly showed a weapon. The rest of the way to Kerry's ship, Vanessa walked under her own power but with great reluctance and always looking for a way to escape. No opportunity presented itself.

Kerry's ship was indeed called the Siren Princess; it looked similar enough to the Lady Swan that it was one of the ships Vanessa had classified as merchant upon sailing into the harbor. On closer inspection, she could now see concealed cannon ports along the sides. The sight of them made her feel cold despite the Caribbean sun.

She and her father were herded up the gangplank, across the deck, and down into the hold. The brig was in the far corner of the lowest level. In the dim light of a lantern, Vanessa could see that it was only recently constructed. The wood was newer than the rest of the ship. Inside, on the floor, a familiar figure leaned against the wall.

He looked out from under his battered tricorn hat when the door was unlocked. "Well it's about bloody time—" Then he caught sight of Vanessa. His eyes widened, looking very white against his swarthy skin. Then he leaned back so that half his face was under his hat again. "Sorry mates, I don't speak with those of the un-living type anymore. Savvey?"

Kerry's men chuckled. Into the cell went Vanessa and Edward. Vanessa turned right around and tried to slip out again, but she was caught and thrown back inside so roughly she banged her head. While she rubbed the lump on her skull the door was shut and locked.

"Are you all right, Nessie?" asked Edward.

"Yes." Vanessa gave the sore spot one last rub, then turned to Jack Sparrow. "Mister Sparrow?"

No response. She was tempted to pinch him or some small thing to prove she wasn't a ghost but restrained herself. To do so would require touching him, and as seemed to be usual he was filthy.

"Captain Sparrow?"

"Eh?" This time his eyes appeared from under his hat. "You still here? Listen, Miss Mouse, your death: not my fault. From what I hear, you jumped off the Pearl all by your onesy. So, shoo. Haunt someone else. Barbossa could do with a turn or two." He leaned back again.

Vanessa sighed irritably. "I am no ghost, Captain Sparrow. What I want to know is what possessed you to tell that demon Kerry about your map. Or me."

The eyes appeared again. "You sure you're no ghost, love? Last girl I saw looked like you was afraid of her own shadow."

"What _did _you tell him about me?"

"That you got eaten by a nasty beastie that attacked the Pearl. I had hoped to persuade him that goin' after the Fountain's a bad idea. For him, at least."

"The Fountain?" Edward interjected. "What is on that island that is so important that Kerry feels it necessary to kidnap us all? I didn't understand half of what he said to you in town, Nessie."

Vanessa glanced at Jack Sparrow, but he did not seem inclined to rescue her. She leaned against the side of the ship as it began to rock back and forth in the ocean surf. "I told you Ad—the Leviathan is bound to the island by a curse." She saw Sparrow come slightly more alert out of the corner of her eye. "He guards the Fountain of Youth, Papa."

"Fountain of—" Edward repeated. She watched him absorb this. "You didn't—"

"No! Oh, no, I didn't drink from it. The water works two ways: at a touch, it cures any injury and illness. It makes you young, and immortal, only if you drink it. For obvious reasons all sorts of people, including pirates," here she looked at Sparrow, who tilted his head slightly in acknowledgement, "have been searching for it for time out of mind. Thus Calypso—"

She heard Sparrow mutter something under his breath.

"—the goddess of the sea, chooses a guardian for the Fountain and makes him into the monster Leviathan."

"You told me he can only be freed if he's slain. Or…what was the other condition?" Edward asked.

"He finds something to bind him to the mortal world."

"That's right." Edward rubbed his chin. "But what did Kerry and this Sparrow fellow mean, you were _swallowed _by your Leviathan?"

Vanessa flushed. "He didn't swallow me; he rescued me from an unfortunate encounter with the pirates of the ship the Black Pearl. Captain Sparrow here was also their prisoner; that was where we met. Mister Sparrow has—had—a map showing the route to the island. I presume you took it when you escaped?" she asked the pirate. "Otherwise Captain Barbossa would have come sailing right back and tried for the Fountain again."

Sparrow nodded. "Right you are, love. My maddeningly unhelpful map only shows the location of the Fountain; it sadly does not make said island appear. A man may risk running his ship aground on an island that isn't there. Or he may risk the wrath of Calypso's beastie, who is so charmingly referred to as 'yours.'" He paused, but neither Vanessa nor Edward elaborated. Shrugging, he continued, "So it seems a monster can be tamed, when the proper leverage is applied. A smart choice on our captain's part." He sighed and leaned back again. "Interesting man. Knew someone like him, once. Had designs on ruling the seas, that one. An immortal man like that is the last thing the world needs."

"We must escape then," Edward said. "Can you get us out of this cell?"

"To what point or purpose, Master Swift? The ship's sailed. To escape now would be folly, lest we forget our dear friend the penguin."

"Our dear…what?" Vanessa asked.

"Penguins. Little black birds-- that swim. And eat fish. 'Course, there's always something bigger in the ocean that wants to eat you, or them as it were. So, we could escape now, as you insist, but then we'd be the first penguin in the ocean before checking to make sure it's safe. A rather grim idea, if you ask me. Or, we could let the charming Captain Kerry go first. A rather better idea. We let the big fishies go at it and use the opportune moment to escape."

Vanessa had barely followed this, but she did understand the last bit. "When will the opportune moment be, then?"

Jack shook his head. "Ghosts. Never listen." To Edward, he asked, "Got any rum?"

"Unfortunately, no." Edward looked like he needed a drink. The idea of the Fountain of Youth, or perhaps that his daughter had been kidnapped by pirates, was not sitting well with him. His face was slightly pale even in the dim light of their single lantern.

Jack Sparrow leaned back against the wall again. "Thought not."

_

* * *

Author's Note: Kerry—and Jack—return! A million thanks to Cywyllog for reviewing the Jack-speak and correcting my lackluster first attempt. What I want Jack to say (the point of his speeches) are never what he would actually say._

_And our Vanessa has a spine! I'm so proud of her. A lot's happened in this chapter, let me know what you think of our latest developments._

_~SamoaPhoenix9_


	21. Battle on the High Seas

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Vanessa, 1767**

"_Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

_The voice is as neutral as ever, but a bit of urgency creeps in with the background tapping of fingers on keys._

-0-0-

Vanessa came awake from an uncomfortable sleep to boots descending the stairs into the hold. She sat up slowly, but this still caused her father to wake due to the vanished pressure of her head on his shoulder. Neither spoke; they were used to people coming down twice a day for the past four days to check on them and throw them a few morsels.

Instead of pitching a stale loaf of bread in the direction of the brig, however, the man came and unlocked the cage.

"Captain wants to see the girl," he said. Vanessa and Edward looked at each other, and then at Jack Sparrow, who hadn't even stirred when the door had been unlatched.

The man seized her arm. "Come on, come on. We haven't got all day." He dragged her from the brig. Vanessa shook free of him with a glare. He shrugged and turned back to re-lock the padlock. Vanessa started up the ladder without him, knowing she couldn't get far. As she had expected, she felt his hand on her ankle before she'd gone three quarters of the way up. She waited for him to release her before moving again, though she was tempted to kick backwards and see if she could do damage. However, she decided that to annoy these men too much would be a foolhardy gesture. It would only give her an instant or so of pleasure but the consequences were not worth it.

She was led out to the bow of the ship, where Kerry awaited. His back was to her, hands clasped behind him as he stared over the prow at the horizon. Vanessa clasped her own hands and waited.

"Thank you for granting me this audience, Miss Swift," he said without turning around. Even knowing he couldn't see her, Vanessa managed to restrain her sneer and keep her face neutral. But she did not trust her voice to answer.

Now he did turn to eye her face, and she saw with some satisfaction that he was disappointed not to have caught her reaction.

"I have a few questions for you, Miss Swift, which you would do well to answer."

"I refuse to tell you one single thing."

"May I remind you, Miss Swift, that I could throw you over the side and have done with it?"

Vanessa regarded him calmly. "Do your worst. I don't fear the sea as I once did."

He stepped forward, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "You are a different woman, Miss Swift. How is it that your time away from civilization has changed you so?" He eyed her. "You haven't…partaken…have you?"

It took her a moment to realize what he meant. He wanted to know if she had drunk from the Fountain. "I will answer your question, Captain Kerry, if you agree to answer one of mine first."

Now he looked intrigued. "Very well. What is your question?"

"What do you expect to find at our destination?"

"I should think that is quite obvious; it's on Sparrow's map. The Fountain of Youth."

"But what is it you want out of the Fountain? For you must have heard that it does not only impart eternal youth." Vanessa tilted her head to one side, attempting to read his expression.

"I confess I have heard such a thing. That alone makes the water even more valuable. To be able to cure illness and wounds with but a single touch! 'Twould be like washing in the waters of the Jordan River, as lepers did of old to be cured."

"Is that all you see? The profit in it?" she asked sadly.

"Not at all! Immortality is not a small prize, miss, even if you are too good—or too foolish—to take it when you have the chance." He said this like a parent lecturing a small child.

Vanessa thought of Adam, of the look in his eyes when she had left. "The consequences of immortality are dire." A tear trickled down her cheek. "The worst part is the loneliness—the knowledge that you will spend ages watching anyone you dare to love vanish."

"Such tears for me?" Vanessa wanted to look away to hide the truth, that they were for Adam, the man she cared more deeply for with every passing moment. But it seemed she had caught Kerry off guard. He actually seemed moved by her tears. So she stood still and prayed he would not guess the truth, and might even turn from his terrible plans.

"Well, there is no reason for me to drink the water right away," he said thoughtfully. "I'm young yet; I can always drink it when I feel old age setting in. Or perhaps I will choose not to. The option will always be there when I control this magical island."

Vanessa's heart sank, and she could not prevent a few more tears. "I pity you then, Captain, should you suffer a change of heart a century hence," was all she said.

He did look concerned for a moment, then hid it and waved her remark aside. "Now I have answered your questions; more than one, in fact. You are bound to answer my question truthfully: did you drink from the Fountain? Although from your remarks, I believe I can guess the answer."

"My answer is no. I did not." Vanessa delivered this as calmly as she possibly could.

"Liar," he hissed.

"Test me, then," she shot back. "I would rather die than aid you."

He clearly wavered, but decided in favor of keeping his 'good luck charm' alive rather than call her bluff. "The truth will come out," he promised. "In the meantime, I believe you owe me a few more answers, as you asked me more than one question. What is the nature of the Leviathan?"

Vanessa fought off panic. "I hardly need to answer that, Captain. You will soon see for yourself."

"But it is always good to be prepared for surprises ahead of time. All Sparrow could describe was a creature great enough to capsize a ship if it so desired. He never saw the thing. You, however, have had quite intimate relations with it, to have escaped from its belly alive."

"That is pure nonsense, Captain. Nothing escapes the Leviathan but for those he chooses," Vanessa said, striving for a cold tone.

"He?" repeated Kerry. "What, it thinks? Are we to expect a decision on whom it allows to live or die?"

"He guards the Fountain without discrimination. My father and I were lucky. That is all," Vanessa lied.

Kerry narrowed his eyes, and she knew that her bluff had failed. "You are insolent," he snarled. "I know you must have some sort of connection with the creature to have escaped alive, but I see you persist in your refusal to cooperate. As punishment, you and your father shall be lashed to the mainmast during the battle. If the ship goes down, the pair of you shall go with it. If not, I will deal with you afterwards as I see fit."

Vanessa could not hide her trembling or her terrified tears, but neither could she bring herself to speak and give this man any further information. The idea of having Adam killed before her eyes because she had told Captain Kerry what to expect was unbearable. Not even to save her own life and that of her father could she do it. Besides, she suspected that even if she were to tell Kerry every detail she knew about Adam, including the precious secret that he loved her, it would not alter her fate. She could only pray Adam never discovered that in protecting the Fountain he had inadvertently destroyed her.

Her tears would not stop even as they dragged Edward out and lashed them both to the mast. Edward said nothing, but slid his hand around ever so slowly within the binding so that it was just barely touching hers. In that way they waited the last few hours before they arrived at the island.

Vanessa knew the instant she felt an unusual buck in the ship's up-and-down rhythm that Adam was near. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Edward stiffen. No one else on the ship reacted until the ship lurched so violently Vanessa feared they would capsize. To their credit, the men did not panic. Kerry began bellowing orders, pausing long enough before the mast to say, "A great shark, Miss Swift? My men can handle a shark, even one so large."

Despite this bravado, it seemed a fairly even match. After the first surprise blow, Adam could not get near enough to the _Siren Princess _to strike again. Kerrry's men kept him away with their muskets and well-aimed canon shots. Vanessa waited tensely, following the battle from the direction of the firing. She silently cheered every near-miss of Adam's, though she knew full well what would happen to herself and Edward should the Leviathan land a fatal hit.

A dark shadow fell over her. Vanessa jerked back so hard she hit her head on the mast. Captain Jack Sparrow knelt between herself and her father. He winked at her, then slid out a knife from somewhere on his person and began slicing away at the ropes binding them. How he had escaped from the brig Vanessa couldn't begin to guess, but she had to applaud his timing. Even Captain Kerry was so intent on the battle he failed to notice the activities of his three prisoners.

The ropes fell to the deck. Vanessa and Edward stood up slowly. "How did you get out?" she whispered to Jack Sparrow.

"Opportune moment. I told you, mousy." He rubbed his hands together. "And now would be the opportune moment for you to tame the beastie."

"That's your plan?" Vanessa demanded.

"My plan? You're the one who jumped off the Pearl, love." Vanessa only stared at him, mouth agape. He sighed. "Distressing damsels. All alike. Right, best get to the lifeboats. That one there'll do. Run to it when the beastie's on the opposite side. I'll hand over my knife. You cut the ropes." He nodded to Edward.

"Why me?" asked Edward.

"Good cutting hands," Sparrow said. "No worries, Master Swift. If we're lucky, they won't notice and if they do it'll help the beastie. So either way's good for us, savvy?"

Vanessa did not think much of this plan, but it was the best they had. Unfortunately, they were not given the chance to execute it. Just as they were getting ready to run, one of Kerry's men happened to glance over at the mast. He pointed at them with a yell. Vanessa dropped to the deck to avoid the musketfire, then, in desperation, sprinted towards the side and clambered precariously onto the rail. Edward and Jack Sparrow were not far behind. Vanessa hoped the dolphins were in the area to help them.

They timed this at precisely the wrong moment. Adam happened to catch a glimpse of Vanessa at the rail. He froze, just as one of the _Siren Princess_'s canons fired point-black into his side.

"_Adam!_" Vanessa heard herself scream. Without a second thought she flung herself off the side of the ship.

She hit the water hard enough to knock the breath from her lungs. With what little strength she still possessed she forced her arms to start feebly windmilling and her feet to begin to kick. She broke the surface for a brief moment, long enough to suck a mouthful of air, before her dress dragged her down again. By a herculean effort she managed to bob and fight her way over to the white form drifting helplessly before her amidst what seemed a sea of red. Behind her she thought she heard shots but she was past caring.

-0-0-

_Blue mist threatens to descend. The sound of a heart pounding, fast, too fast, is the only sound. Abruptly the pervading mist withdraws again._

-0-0-

When Vanessa reached him she paused to tread water, her nose just barely above the surface. The tang of blood seemed burned into her nostrils. Adam was floating facedown in his half-human form. This wound looked even worse than the injury he had incurred from the Black Pearl; an enormous gash in his side below his ribcage trailed fresh ribbons of blood.

A dolphin nudged her on the shoulder. Gratefully, she slid an arm over its smooth back so that it could support her. Several other gray shapes nosed in closer. With their help, Vanessa dragged Adam towards the _Siren Princess_.

A boat came lowering down to meet her. Had she had the strength left, she would have been surprised. In it was Edward, and only Edward. He took Adam from under the shoulders, and between them they managed to heave him aboard without capsizing. Vanessa had more difficulty; her waterlogged skirts meant Edward had to lean far to the opposite side while she strained to pull herself upward and the dolphins supported her from behind. Once inside, she seized an oar and began to pull.

-0-0-

_Blue mist fogs the entire scene, dense enough that the faint symbols can be seen lacing it. The beat of computer keys intertwine with the deeper sound of a thundering heart._

_The mist parts again and the thundering subsides._

-0-0-

With one foot each touching Adam, Vanessa and Edward could see that the Fountain's island was not far away; the only way to save Adam was to reach it.

"How…" she gasped to her father between labored breaths.

"Kerry's…hit," Edward wheezed in return. "He and…Sparrow exchanged…shots after you went off. Kerry missed…Sparrow did not."

"Where did Sparrow get…the gun?"

"Grabbed it…off one of the men. Reloaded after…he hit Kerry. Made them lower me down to you."

"Good." Vanessa didn't spare any more breath on talking. It seemed millennia until they reached shore. Her strength seemed to be ebbing along with Adam's though she tried to pull even faster. At last, the boat's hull beached and she leapt out, nearly catching her skirt on the side. Between them she and Edward lifted Adam. Vanessa nearly staggered at the weight and the sight of blood still dripping to the sand but held herself steady.

"Which way?" asked Edward. Vanessa nodded towards the trees and they started off.

Minutes crawled by in agony. Vanessa's muscles individually screamed for her attention to their pain, but her mind was screaming louder. _Wait, Adam, hold on, don't go yet, we're so close…_

-0-0-

_The blue mist feels clinging this time. It descends, and for a time there is no movement, no sound but for the frantic pounding heartbeat. Pain is distant, but the knowledge that it is there is strong. Remarkably, the mist clears again to reveal the island._

-0-0-

At last, they reached the cave. The Fountain was as beautiful and peaceful-looking as ever, but Vanessa hardly noticed her father's awe at the sight of it. They laid Adam down at the Fountain's side, and Vanessa reached in and splashed as much water as her cupped hands could hold on his wound. As before, the wound began to glow.

Vanessa knelt and took Adam's icy hand in hers. "Don't let it be too late," she whispered.

There was a blinding flash, and when the spots cleared from her eyes Adam's side was whole. However, he did not stir. Nor did he draw a breath.

* * *

_Author's Note: Yes, it's been forever and a day since I last updated, and now I leave you with this awful cliffhanger. For that, I deeply apologize. Thanks again to Cywyllog for correcting my Jack-speak. She is the expert and I am not. With some luck, this next chapter won't take as long as the last did to update._

_My love to you all for waiting this long._

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	22. Back to the Future

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Robin, 2017**

Robin slowly dragged her eyes open. Her eyelids felt as though they weighed several pounds each.

"Rob!" the familiar male voice caught a little on the syllable; a sound of evident relief. It occurred to Robin as she processed this that two hands had one of hers in a vice grip.

She turned her head to find Kyle sitting beside her bed. His face was much, much paler than usual, his eyes were huge, and some of his dark hair had escaped its tie and fell across his face. "Hand," she croaked.

"Huh?" He blinked, as though she had suddenly started speaking some obscure native dialect of the islands.

She cleared her throat. "Hand. You're crushing my hand."

"Oh! Sorry." He let go of her hand, raising both of his own palm up in a gesture of peaceful intentions. "Here." He held out a glass of water. Robin tried to take it, but she could not find the strength to raise herself high enough without spilling it and her hand shook. She wanted to turn her face away when Kyle slid a hand behind her head and raised it while holding the glass to her lips, but the water tasted too good. After a few sips she could sit up and take the glass from him.

"How do you feel?" Kyle asked anxiously.

"Really, really tired. Like I swam in the middle of the ocean, rowed forever, then carried a dead weight of at least a hundred eighty pounds and probably more. Exactly what happened. At least I don't hurt." Robin sighed and leaned back.

"Are you sure? Not even a headache?"

"No headache. Why?"

"The equipment started to go out. I told you it would when it came close to twelve straight hours. I tried to pull you out, but you wouldn't come. It was like Vanessa had hold of your mind and wouldn't let you go."

Robin closed her eyes. The last few minutes of the Animus session were coming back to her. "It wasn't that. I wanted to find out what happened."

"You wanted to—Rob, do you have any idea how dangerous that was? I could have lost you for good. You were the one who didn't like the word 'coma,' remember?"

"I wasn't really thinking or trying to control it at all," protested Robin. "I only just realized that's what happened. I definitely wasn't trying to disappear into that machine for good." She shuddered.

"All right," Kyle said, relenting. "You scared me, that's all. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you."

Robin remembered with a stab of guilt how responsible he felt for his mother's death, which he hadn't had a remote hand in. She could only imagine how he would blame himself if he had been unable to pull her before the Animus overheated.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to scare you, really." She glanced around. They were in her tiny room and not in the main warehouse, which she had vaguely noticed before but could now fully acknowledge. "Umm…how did we get here?"

"I—uh..." Kyle flushed. "Once I knew you were safely disconnected, I carried you in here. I thought you'd be more comfortable waking up here than on the Animus. If—when you woke up."

Robin closed her eyes again, trying to ignore her renewed stab of guilt. She smiled a little despite herself at the picture of Kyle carrying her. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

She heard Kyle stand. "I'll let you rest. The nurse will be in to check you in a few minutes. Also…" he hesitated, then went on, "I should warn you, Dad will probably be here when you wake up."

"Urgh. Thanks for the heads-up."

"You'll have to be ready. Odds are he'll call an end to the project."

"_What?_" Robin sat up sharply. "You mean…that was my last session? But what happens to everyone? You can't just leave me hanging!"

"I'm sorry, Robin. I tried to extend things as much as possible. Once we got into it I was as curious as you. But Dad told me over satellite he's had enough of our nonsense and we'll have to make do with what we have. I'll tell you the truth: we had enough footage awhile ago. I didn't want it to end any more than you do." He did indeed look genuinely sorry, and Robin couldn't be mad at him. She also suspected that he had prolonged things not only because he was curious, but because he wanted more time with her. She couldn't be mad at him for that, either. "What happens now?"

"I'm not really sure," Kyle told her honestly. "I know Dad told you he'd let you go when we were done with you, but…"

"He won't, will he?"

Kyle sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "I can't begin to predict what he'll do. You need your rest to be ready for anything. But I did want to ask…if you are free to go your own way…is this goodbye?"

"I don't know." The look he gave her stabbed her heart. "Kyle, I will miss you. Really, I will." This was an enormous understatement, but she couldn't find all the words needed to elaborate. She tried anyway. "I haven't had a friend like you in a long time." In her whole life, in fact. Miles was a good confidant, her only one up until her kidnap, but she simply didn't feel the connection to him she felt with Kyle.

"So we part as friends, then?" It was now impossible to read his expression.

She knew what he was hinting. Part of her wanted to agree, to say, "No, I'll give up hiding from my parents. I want to see you again, as more than friends." But even if they did see each other again, it wouldn't be in this isolated setting. The connection might not survive the real world. Could she give up her freedom for such a risky choice?

"Friends," she said, lying back down and closing her eyes. She didn't want to see his face.

Surprisingly, she heard him come towards her. "Then here," his voice said. "You should have this back." Robin opened her eyes to find him offering her the jewelry he'd taken the first night with the Animus, including the cubic zirconia for her nose piercing. She took it and the two rings carefully, replacing the stud to her nose with a slight wince. The hole had gotten considerably more tender since she had last had anything in it.

She was about to put the rings back on when she hesitated. Putting the thinner, more feminine one in its usual place on her right pointer finger, she held out the thick, plain ring she had been wearing on her left thumb. "Keep it. So you won't forget how much trouble I've been."

His grin was the old derisive one. "That's impossible." He took it anyway. It slid neatly onto his right ring finger. She had never noticed how slender his fingers were before. Perfect for playing the piano, or typing all day.

"You should have something of mine then, too. To remind you to try and keep out of trouble." He reached up and unclasped the silver charm he wore around his neck. Examining it more closely, Robin saw that it was actually a simple Celtic eternity knot.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I won that for my mom at some local carnival when I was twelve. She gave it back to me before she died."

Robin's spine prickled. "I shouldn't keep this, then. It means too much to you."

"That's exactly why you should keep it." They looked at each other for a moment, and then Kyle turned on his heel and left the room, leaving Robin staring at the charm. She fastened it around her neck and sank back on the pillows. As she turned on her side, her hand crept up to finger the metal around her neck. It was still warm from Kyle's body heat.

A light tap on the doorframe woke her up without startling her. She opened her eyes and sat up, already feeling the energy coming back into her body with the benefit of extra sleep.

Kyle's head and torso poked in through the doorway. "Hey, Dad's here. Or will be, in a minute or two. His chopper just landed."

"Thanks." Robin swung her legs off the bed and found shoes waiting for her. "How long was I asleep?"

"Another six hours or so." Kyle disappeared again.

Robin sighed. Clinical Kyle was back, much to her disappointment. But what else had she expected? She had as good as told him she didn't plan on keeping in touch once she was free. She pulled on her shoes and followed him into the main room.

Kyle was standing next to the conference table. He pulled out a seat for her, which she took. He then walked around and sat opposite her. Robin could feel her palms sweating a little. If his own son couldn't predict him, it meant she had even less an idea what to expect.

Russell Carey strode in through the coded doors, followed by an entourage of men and women dressed for action in jumpsuits, backpacks and flight goggles. Robin stubbornly did not stand up, or act as if the entrance was anything interesting. Out of the corner of her eyes she noted that Kyle did the same.

Russell appeared not to notice. "It's nice to find the pair of you acting like adults for a change. I trust you were conversing on something other than fairy tales?"

"Actually, we were talking about how Robin plans to get her job back after disappearing for weeks," Kyle replied in a bored tone. By this point Robin had caught on to Russell's assumption that she and Kyle had been talking while waiting for him rather than just sitting.

"It won't be easy explaining to my boss where I've been all this time," she chipped in, with an appropriate privileged-rich-girl-who-is-used-to-others-taking-care-of-things-for-her look for Russell.

"Well, that's hardly my problem, is it?" the older man replied in a dismissive tone.

"It should be," Robin muttered, but she did not say it to be heard. Now that Russell didn't need her memories of Vanessa anymore, he could easily carry out the threats he'd issued at their last meeting.

"I think we should at least make a call. Make some excuse for her," Kyle said, still sounding bored. However, Robin caught the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth that might have been a smile in her direction. Even though she'd as good as turned him down, he was still willing to go to bat for her. She sent him a small smile of gratitude when Russell turned to his son.

"Actually, son, that won't be necessary."

"Why not?" asked Robin. Russell ignored her question. Instead, he turned to her and put a hand out to stroke the charm she still wore around her neck.

"This looks familiar." Still keeping his hand on the charm, he turned to Kyle. "It's your, isn't it?"

"Strictly speaking, it was Mom's, but now it's Robin's," Kyle replied with a shrug that looked more like a twitch. "Just a souvenir."

"Right. Kyle, I know you have a few more IQ points, but I'm not an idiot. You wouldn't give away anything of your mother's for a frivolous reason." He paused, then added, half to himself, "I should have had somebody keep an eye on you two."

Robin felt a small prickle of heat run down her spine, but she restrained herself from looking at Kyle. That would have been a dead giveaway. Instead she strove to keep her face neutral, if slightly disgusted that Russell's hand was still at her throat. Her back was stiff with tension.

"Well." Russell took his hand away and rubbed his chin. "This changes things. Get up. Both of you. Come along."

Robin stood, but she did not follow him. "You promised to let me go when you were done with me. That was our bargain."

Russell spun back around. His eyes flashed dangerously. "_You _were the one to change things, Miss Grey, not me. Because of you, I can no longer implicitly trust my own son."

"But—" Both Kyle and Robin protested at the same time.

"Not another word out of either of you! I must bring you both along to ensure cooperation. Did you think I _wanted _more people to see the secret we're about to discover?"

"Dad—" Kyle started. There was no confidence in his voice now, only a kind of resigned horror. Robin's emotions matched his. They had both known the likelihood of Russell simply releasing her was low, but she had allowed herself some hope. She had not expected to be dragged along, however.

To the Fountain of Youth.

Only then did it hit her where they were going. She had seen the Fountain many times as Vanessa, known that it was that which Russell and Kyle were trying to find, but hadn't really considered seeing it herself, in the present day. And if they were going to find the Fountain, based on Adam's explanations, then Calypso's guardian should be waiting for them.

She did not relish the idea of coming up against a Leviathan. Russell might have chosen not to believe in it, but after what she had experienced, she couldn't help but believe. She also knew that the Leviathan would indiscriminately protect the Fountain at all costs. It wasn't like she or Kyle could explain they meant no harm. Especially since that would be a lie, with Russell in the party. The likelihood of any of them coming back unscathed was looking lower the longer she thought about it.

She and Kyle fell into step behind Russell. They were followed by Russell's team, their boots tapping with the sound of rubber on concrete. Robin shot one last look at the Animus as they left. Now she might never know what had happened to Adam, or to Vanessa, Edward, and Jack Sparrow.

A hand touched her shoulder, and she looked up into Kyle's eyes. She could see his worry in them; his thoughts had likely mirrored her own.

"If you know how to pretend to get sick, now would be an excellent time," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "Or really get sick. Whichever."

"Or you could always fake anaphylactic shock, or whatever happens to you when you eat wheat," she whispered back.

He winced. "If only it were that dramatic. Unfortunately, it doesn't work like that and my father knows it."

"And I don't think I can fake sick well enough for a nurse not to figure it out," Robin admitted.

"Well, it was an idea. Maybe there's some other way out."

"Let me know if you come up with something."

Out of the corner of her view she saw him quirk an eyebrow. "If you promise to do likewise."

"Sure." She would, too, but she couldn't think of something Russell would buy for more than a minute. That would only delay the inevitable, and likely make him angry in the bargain.

Nothing occurred to her, even when she and Kyle were herded into a helicopter, the door slammed, and the rotors started to roar above them. She pressed close to Kyle, and felt him slide a hand into hers so that the nervous sweat on their palms mingled together.

_

* * *

Author's Note: And now you hate me even more. I would. Not only do I give you _another _evil cliff hanger, but we won't be finding out Adam's fate for another few chapters. That's right, chapters. Try not to vent your wrath on me too much, but I do deserve some of it. At least classes are winding down here so I have time to write again._

_Love you all, and keep looking for updates!_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	23. Paradise Threatened

_Disclaimer: I don't own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Robin, 2017**

The ride to their location took several hours. For all Robin could tell, they were heading into the middle of nowhere. Which was the point, she supposed. Still, it did not inspire much confidence.

Though they could have talked via microphones attached to their headsets, she and Kyle had not spoken since climbing into the helicopter. For her part, Robin thought that if she opened her mouth she might throw up. Not only was she extremely nervous about what they were about to face, but helicopters were not her favored mode of travel. She had forgotten how much she disliked them in her four years away from her parents.

Kyle had not let go of her hand, which was how Robin hoped things would stay. She could feel his tension in his grip, which was not quite hard enough to be painful but certainly not loose and casual. Every so often he would squeeze, either for reassurance or due to nerves. She wasn't sure.

The pilot began speaking into his mic to his fellow pilots on the team. Russell had gotten into his own personal chopper, and there was one other full of the suited out team members with their bushwhacking and scuba gear. Robin was willing to bet they were all armed as well. One of the team had come into Robin and Kyle's chopper to keep an eye on them.

"No," their pilot was saying. "That's the coordinates we were given. GPS confirms it." Pause. "I know there's nothing there." Longer pause. "Well, if the boss says so, it better get done." He turned to the three sitting behind him. "Prepare for a water landing. We're going first."

"Of course," Kyle muttered. Robin would have said something similar had she not been steadfastly keeping her mouth clamped shut. This time she squeezed Kyle's hand as they began their descent.

Even growing up with some of the latest technology, she had never seen a helicopter land on water. From what little she could determine, the runners were equipped with chambers that, when inflated, would allow the helicopter to float on the water's surface if the landing was handled precisely. This was definitely a new development since she had left the world of the rich and powerful behind, but of course Russell Carey would have the best. The pilot was obviously the best as well, because he managed to land them in between swells so that the vibrating of the chopper was almost seamlessly replaced by the rolling of the ocean.

Robin tensed and closed her eyes, huddling closer to Kyle. She resisted the urge to peer out of the helicopter to see if there was anything coming. However, she couldn't help but see the second chopper come down because it landed in front of them, though relatively far away.

The third chopper was coming in for a landing, at least from what Robin could tell from their pilot's communications, when it happened. Almost too fast for her to see, something lunged out of the water to strike the second chopper with enough force to tip it over, even now that it was balanced on its floating runners. Robin jumped so hard she felt herself bruise where the seatbelt had restrained her. A small shriek escaped her lips before shock took over.

"Take off!" Kyle bellowed at the pilot. Robin was impressed in spite of her fear; he sounded like a general in command of his troops.

The pilot started to obey, then hesitated. "But your father hasn't—"

"Never mind my father!" roared Kyle. "Get us out of here!"

An fireball filled their horizon as the second helicopter exploded. This time Robin had clearly seen the flash of white in the water. Her stomach clenched. It was like a nightmare from Vanessa's world come to life, only this time there was no safety in the Animus, no Kyle in control to remove her when things got too scary. This was all too real.

The rotors started above them. Robin waited, heart pounding. Faster and faster the rotors went, and then _whomp_. Out of the window over Kyle's head, Robin saw an enormous shark's tail come crashing into the side of the helicopter.

In an instant they were overturned and underwater. Robin's head jerked so hard she blacked out for a second. She opened her eyes again, blinked and looked around. She couldn't remember how long she had been hanging sideways from her seatbelt. It couldn't have been that long or they would have already drowned.

Someone was tearing at her seatbelt with one hand. Robin looked sideways at Kyle, who hadn't even unbuckled his own seatbelt yet.

She slapped his hand. "Let me do it, you idiot!" she snapped, in no mood to be even remotely polite or appreciate his chivalry. "Get yours off!" Kyle glared at her but did not protest. Robin reached down and pressed the catch, releasing her and dropping her onto the side window. Kyle landed next to her an instant later. He turned and began fumbling with the seatbelt on their companion from Russell's team, who had been knocked unconscious.

The sound of a door releasing startled them both. The pilot had opened his own door. Unfortunately, it was barely above the waterline and seawater began trickling in.

Kyle swore. The pilot heard him and turned back. "Here, pass him to me!" he ordered, indicating his unconscious comrade. Kyle and Robin between them had just started to lift the body up when something enormous hit the helicopter again. The chopper spiraled in the water like a football, its rotors snapping off from the pressure. In the twisting, Robin was somehow thrown forward into the pilot's seat and then out the open door, which had been torn from its hinges. She was a good swimmer due to her years working with dolphins, and luckily she had not hit her head again. She located light, which she hoped was the surface, and stroked for it.

Her head broke the water and she gulped in air. Treading water, she screamed "Kyle!" Smoke stung her eyes, still rising from the spot where the second chopper had exploded and then presumably sunk. Debris was all that was left. Sucking in a foul-tasting lungful—salt and burning motor oil were not enjoyable flavors, she decided—she dove, wishing she had a mask at least and was not searching blindly with the wreckage of a helicopter and God-only-knew-what-else below her. But she had to find Kyle.

Skin brushed hers, but it was like living sandpaper on her fingertips. With a shriek, she shot back to the surface. She had enjoyed watching _Jaws_, once, but now she couldn't get the images out of her head. Shuddering in terror she looked around frantically, trying to locate the shark beneath her and expecting to see a gaping mouth of teeth at any second.

Finally, she saw a streak of white underwater, but it was heading away from her. She also saw the third helicopter, which had not quite landed before the attack and was now hovering well out of striking range. She waved frantically at it, but its pilot seemed to take no note of her. The chopper circled in a strange erratic pattern that made Robin fancifully wonder whether the pilot was drunk.

A head surfaced beside her. The hair was far too light to be Kyle's, which clenched an iron fist around her heart for a moment, but then another head came up, this one surrounded by dark, floating hair.

"Kyle," Robin whispered, half-choking on the word. Kyle spat out water and gasped. His arms flailed wildly for a moment, then began to paddle more slowly. Robin had to resist flinging herself at him.

"Robin! Where is she?" Kyle spun himself in the water and saw her. His relief was so evident his expression was almost funny. "Oh. There you are. But where's…"

"I couldn't get him out of the chopper," the pilot admitted. His face twisted, and Robin felt her stomach drop as she imagined the unconscious man trapped below them. She took a breath to dive, but the pilot grabbed her wrist. "Don't. There's too much debris. Likely you'd just get dragged down yourself. That, and there's whatever hit us lurking, too."

"But we have to—" Robin started, then stopped at the expression on his face. Not being able to save his comrade was tearing him apart, but he was being practical and trying to keep her and Kyle alive as well.

"Rob, he's right," Kyle said. Robin recognized his expression as one similar to when he talked about his mother. She knew, too, that she would carry the burden of that unknown man's death for the rest of her life.

"What do we do now?" she asked instead. Her voice quavered only a little.

"I'm not sure," the pilot answered. "According to Mr. Carey there's supposed to be land around here, but I sure as hell don't see any."

Kyle squinted up at the still-circling helicopter. "What is he doing?" he muttered. Suddenly, he seemed to stiffen. "Oh, God, he's going to—"

Robin and the pilot realized what they were seeing at the same instant. On the underbelly of the chopper had extended a long, cylindrical device with a very distinctive shape. A missile launcher.

"Swim!" ordered the pilot.

"Where?" Robin demanded.

"As far away from _that_ crazy son of a gun as we can get!" the pilot replied, as if this were obvious. "I didn't sign on for this, and I bet you didn't either! Let's go!" He put his head down and began stroking. Kyle and Robin looked at each other in a moment of helpless panic, but obediently followed. Robin kept an eye on him when she came up for air. Kyle was in all right shape, but he wasn't the best swimmer. She kept lagging behind her fastest pace in order to wait for him.

They had been swimming what seemed like forever when the explosion shook the water behind them. Robin felt the heavy _thump _and began to swim for all she was worth, but it wasn't enough. It was like being caught in a miniature tidal wave. She was shoved forward so powerfully it felt like she should snap into pieces at every joint. Then she was rolled over and over in the water until she couldn't have told her own name, let alone which way was up. It took every fiber of her being to remember to hold her breath.

The roaring in the water settled down slowly. Robin found herself drifting up and down in an almost peaceful manner. It was the burning on the back of her neck and in her lungs that first roused her. She shot upright, to discover her head was above water and she was free to gasp in air. For several minutes that was all she did: just concentrate on staying afloat and breathing. Once oxygen was flowing again, her brain could begin to sort things out.

The burning on the back of her neck had not been just the sun. When she put her hand to check pain shot across her back, and she realized the explosion had burned her somewhat. Not too badly, since she could move without much pain. It felt like an intense sunburn.

Robin looked around and jumped. Not more than a hundred yards away was an island, an island full of trees, that had not been there before. Either she had been blown a lot further than she thought, or she was seeing their original goal: the Fountain island, made somehow visible. They had been swimming towards it all along without knowing it. The island looked almost exactly as she remembered from seeing it as Vanessa.

"Like nothing's changed," she muttered. And for this place, maybe nothing had.

Her brain was beginning to function a little more rapidly. Recent events were clamoring for her attention. Trying to keep her panic down, she spun herself in a little circle to check all angles. "Kyle!"

"Miss!" came the call back. A hand waved from her left and a bit closer to the island; not Kyle's hand, but the pilot's. Robin's stomach sank, but she stroked slowly over to join him. As she got closer to where he was treading water, she saw that he was keeping a dark head above the surface. She forced her exhausted body to pick up the pace slightly until she drew level.

Kyle was unconscious, and breathing with an audible wheeze. "I can't tell how bad he is," the pilot admitted. He himself seemed unscathed, probably because he had been furthest from the blast. "We need to get him to land as soon as possible."

"Let's go, then. We may be able to find something there to help." Between them they began to drag Kyle to shore without allowing the waves to batter him too badly. Kyle did not wake up or struggle, but he seemed to get no worse for moving, either. Robin envied Vanessa for having the Leviathan on her side and being able to call on the assistance of dolphins or other sea life.

Distantly she could hear the buzz of the helicopter still in the air behind them over the roar of the waves. She thought silent curses at it and whoever was aboard. Odds were high one of those people was Russell Carey. Vanessa's Captain Kerry had been just as ruthless.

Robin suddenly wanted to smack her head and call herself all kinds of stupid. As it was, she slowed down enough in her swimming the pilot asked her if she was all right. She reassured him, but she was still seething for not seeing it before. How had she managed to get through all these weeks and stay in the dark? Kerry…and Carey. Russell and Kyle were descended from the captain and the name had somehow gotten respelled over the centuries. The father and son even looked something like their ancestor: tall, pale, and dark-haired. The only excuse Robin could come up with for her obtuseness was preconceived ideas from already knowing Kyle's last name causing her to not register the homonym.

It explained how the Careys had had their starting points: probably some family heirloom like a diary, or looking back in a history and getting a hint of a treasure quest. They hadn't used the Animus on themselves, or they would have known, or at least had a hint, about the Leviathan. They had instead relied on traditional research for background, which was how they had found her, and her link to Vanessa.

Kyle had known all along about his connections to that despicable man. For a moment Robin wanted to hit him, even unconscious as he was, but she stopped her temper. It wasn't like he had picked his ancestors, any more than she had. What mattered now was getting them all to safety. With any luck, and she prayed they still had some of that, they would have time to sort out things.

Finally, they reached the sand. Robin was ready to collapse, giving her a nasty sense of déjà vu from her time spent as Vanessa on this island, but there were other things to worry about.

Out of the water, Kyle started to revive a little. He drew a deeper breath and began to splutter and cough weakly. Robin could also better see the damage: he bore a nasty dark burn that streaked across the backs of both legs as well as numerous smaller burns all over his body. His shoulder was also at a funny angle.

"Dislocated," the pilot announced, examining the shoulder. "Hold him."

"What for?" asked Robin.

"So I can put it back in its proper place before he really comes around and fights us," the man snapped. She couldn't argue with that. Setting herself carefully, she held Kyle down while the pilot grabbed Kyle's arm and pushed it back into place.

"Ahhhh!" Kyle screamed, his eyes shooting open. He fought, but Robin managed to hold him down. He fell back on the sand with a gasp of pain that ended in a cough.

"You can get off him now," the pilot said to Robin. He sounded amused.

"Yes, please," croaked Kyle.

"Sorry!" Robin scrambled off Kyle's chest. He flipped himself over and coughed out a small amount of water.

"Better," he finally gasped when he had gone about thirty seconds without having to cough. Slowly, wincing, he turned himself back so that he could look at Robin, who was still kneeling beside him and the pilot, who stood behind her. "Are you all right?" Kyle asked. The question could have been directed at both of them, but the way he said it made Robin sure he only meant her.

For answer, she leaned forward and put her arms around him. "I'm fine. But I was so worried about you!" she whispered.

"All right, you two lovebirds, save that for when we get out of here. They're coming down," the pilot said. Kyle and Robin broke apart to find he was right: the chopper was descending gracefully towards them. A sinking feeling hit the pit of Robin's stomach, and she looked out to sea. There was nothing there but smoke rising in two places: one from the helicopter that had blown up, and the other…

There was no doubt. The Leviathan was dead. Robin wondered, wiping away a few tears, whether Adam du Gris had finally perished—provided he had somehow survived two hundred and fifty years—or if he had died long ago and it was his replacement who just been killed.

A chill went down her spine despite her burns and the tropical sun. There was no one to protect the Fountain now.

_

* * *

Author's Note: Enough action for ya? I hope so. Action's hard to get right. General impressions thus far would be appreciated. We're closing in on the finale! I'm done with school until the fall when I hit grad school, so at least until I get a summer job I'll have time to write. Keep checking!_

_SamoaPhoenix9_


	24. Unexpected Transformations

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Robin, 2017**

"Help me up," Kyle said.

"But—" Robin started. She gestured towards his burned legs.

"Being seen at a disadvantage now would be a bad idea," he replied. His eyes stayed on the chopper, which was about to settle onto the sand.

"I think we're already at a severe disadvantage. They control the only way out of here," Robin grumbled, but she did not voice any more objections. She bent down and took Kyle's hand, putting her other hand behind his shoulders. They had a major problem with leverage because she was so much shorter, but in the end they managed. Kyle stood with one arm draped over her shoulder and she with one arm around his waist. He put just enough of his weight on her so that they could walk without staggering. Even then Robin could tell he was in pain, and having his arm across her burns was not the most comfortable thing in the world, either. Kyle was right about one thing, however: it did make a difference in courage to be standing together.

The helicopter had landed while they had been getting Kyle to his feet. Russell descended, followed by his pilot and two other team members. They formed a line beside their employer so that Robin almost felt they were in a face-off in a soccer game.

Kyle spoke first. "Dad, we've got to get out of here."

"Why?" Russell crossed his arms. "The giant shark—a Megalodon, right?—is dead. The island became visible when it died. It's ripe for the taking."

"That's not the point," Kyle protested. "Isn't the island's invisibility enough to convince you that there's magic involved? We weren't lying about the Leviathan. Who knows what else is guarding this place?"

"But if your evidence is to be believed, your Leviathan was the main threat. We should be able to walk right up to the Fountain now unchallenged."

"Dad, that was two hundred fifty years ago. Things change. Other protections might have been added." Seeing the set look on Russell's face, Robin felt Kyle sag a little. His voice changed, carrying an ever-so-slight hint of pleading. "Dad, I almost died. Doesn't that mean anything?"

For a moment, Russell seemed to soften. "Of course it does, Kyle. You mean as much to me as any of my associates."

Kyle's pained expression hardened. His gaze flicked sideways, out to sea, for a moment. Robin could easily see what he was thinking: _As much as you cared for the ones that died in the choppers._ Robin empathized with him deeply, and for the first time in awhile was glad her own parents had been as they were. At least they had cared about her well-being, in their own way. She had never fit in with the lifestyle that came along with being wealthy, and they had made no secret of their constant disappointment in her, but after she left for good they had tried desperately to find her. Not because they were overbearing, as she had once assumed, but because they didn't want to see her hurt. If she had been Russell's daughter and had run away, he would only have come looking for her if he wanted something. His own son's extraordinary abilities were just a means to an end for him.

She adjusted her grip on Kyle, enough that she hoped it would give him a semblance of a hug, to let him know that _she _valued him even if his father didn't. He didn't seem to notice. Instead, he lowered his gaze to the sand like a bull waiting to charge, his expression still hard. Robin could feel him shaking.

Russell shrugged, apparently believing the discussion was over. "Come on, we're wasting daylight." He started towards the trees. Kyle tensed, and for a moment Robin thought he was going to struggle out of her arms and tackle his father from behind. Only the pain in his legs seemed to keep him leaning on her. He hissed through his teeth slightly.

"Don't," she whispered to him. "It won't do any good."

"You're right," he whispered back disconsolately. "But—"

"He's a jerk who doesn't care, and it hurts," Robin said, trying for both blunt and sympathetic at the same time. "I'm really sorry, Kyle. Believe me when I say I know how you feel."

"You do, don't you?" He gave her a small smile. "At least I've got you. Until we make it out of this, anyway."

"Optimistic thinking. That's what we need," she grinned. "C'mon. We're getting left behind. If the Fountain _is_ here, at least maybe we can fix your legs."

"Good point." They limped after Russell and the rest of the team. Only their former pilot took care to stay between them and the main group so they wouldn't get completely lost in the undergrowth.

Everything was much more overgrown than Robin remembered; but of course it had been more than two centuries since she had seen it last. The trees were thick overhead, enough that they blocked out almost all the sun's light. There were few bird whistles, and those that could be heard sounded like warnings to turn back rather than the cheerful welcomes usually associated with birdsong. Robin clung to Kyle, not only to keep him upright but also from her own nerves. Nothing jumped out at them, but the entire way it seemed as if something might. She felt watching eyes.

"Kyle," she said, partially to distract herself but also because she needed to say it before they arrived at their destination, "I've been thinking…about what happens if we get out of this."

"When," he reminded her.

"Right. When. Anyway, I was…well, thinking…I mean, sort of. I know I said when your dad let me go, I'd be going my own way and we'd say goodbye." She paused for breath. This wasn't coming out at all as she had intended. Half-carrying Kyle after a long swim was quickly tiring her out and her brain seemed to be shutting down non-essential functions, including connections from her thoughts to her jaw and tongue.

"Yes?" Kyle prompted.

"I realized back there, when we were in the ocean and I was afraid you were going to die, that not seeing you again, ever, would be more torture than I could stand."

There was a pause. "What about your parents?" Kyle finally asked. He sounded a little out of breath.

"I'll deal with that when they show up. Maybe—maybe they're not as bad as I thought they were."

"Compared to my father," grumbled Kyle, shooting a glare ahead of them.

"I didn't mean it like that," Robin sighed. She had, in a way, but she knew to say so would only hurt Kyle more.

"It's OK, Rob. Thanks for trying to be gentle this time. You've never made a secret of disliking my father. I'm only just starting to accept how right you were."

"I really am sorry, Kyle. My parents always despaired at my lack of tact. It was one of many reasons they stopped insisting I go out in public with them after I made my formal _début _in society when I turned sixteen."

"You're not scared to tell the truth. It's one of the things I've admired about you since the day we met. It's frustrating sometimes, but it's usually stuff that needs to be said." Robin flushed, but somehow felt remotely pleased. Kyle continued, "But you really mean it? You've gone to so much trouble to avoid your parents and keep your independence. You'd give all that up in order to—"

"—keep from losing you? Yes." Robin took a deep breath. "That, and more. I…I think I love you, Kyle."

"I love you, too. I'd stop and kiss you right now to prove it if it didn't mean we'd get lost."

They both wheezed out chuckles. Robin thought she heard something, or someone, chuckling along, but when she listened more closely it was just the wind rustling in the trees. Or maybe an echo. The hair prickled on the back of her neck. "I hope we get there soon," she said.

"Me, too. The Animus screen doesn't do justice to how creepy this place is." Their previous discussion had slipped casually away, but it hung in the air between them like a small beacon of reassurance. They had each other to lean on now, no matter what.

They came around a particularly large tree to find the others waiting at the mouth of a cave partially hidden by hanging vines. Robin's stomach dropped. Despite the plant growth, she recognized this place easily. Russell clearly had as well; he was standing a few paces in front of the cave with a printed page in his hand, looking between the image he held and the real thing.

"This is the one," he said. He turned to look at Robin and Kyle, who were both sweaty and shaking as they clung to each other. "Where have you two been? This is no time to be indulging your hormones. We have important work to take care of here."

Robin tensed, as much as her sore muscles would allow. He actually thought they had lagged behind on purpose to— Even her mind choked on the thought. Was he really so oblivious that he'd failed to notice that Kyle could barely walk? Next to her, Kyle made a noise that was somewhere between a sigh and a huff. Robin took this to mean he was both annoyed and resigned, but didn't plan to say anything. She kept her own mouth closed with a considerable effort of self-control.

Russell led the way past the hanging vines into the cave. Once behind them, as if they were some sort of living curtain, Robin's ears detected the delicate sound of splashing water. The sound seemed to draw her in towards it, and as it did so it washed away much of her worry, anxiety and even exhaustion with its gentle music. Robin could have been content to stand there and just listen for a long, long time.

But that was impossible. They were falling behind again. Still, as they started forward all of Robin's aches and pains seemed, not to go away, but to fade in importance. She noticed as they went on Kyle took a small amount of his weight off of her and stood a bit straighter on his own. She couldn't remember the Fountain having this kind of effect on Vanessa, but maybe it was all in her head due to her expectations of the Fountain's miraculous powers.

Around a slight bend in the cave, the light gone behind them but shining ahead, and there it was. The Fountain. It looked precisely as she had last seen it: a rock formation spouting water in the center of a round room with light streaming in from overhead. The constant flow of the water had not eroded the rock one inch in two hundred and fifty years. Robin supposed that was only to be expected as the water's magical property was that of constant restoration.

"It's beautiful," Kyle whispered beside her. Robin agreed, which made the thought of someone exploiting it all the more galling.

"Well, what are we waiting for, folks?" Russell asked, clapping his hands once and then rubbing them together eagerly.

"What are you going to do?" Robin asked.

"Bottle some of this stuff up for testing. If it genuinely has restorative powers, then the possibilities from there are endless." He gestured to two of his team members, who pulled collecting bottles out of their packs and knelt at the edge of the Fountain.

"We can't let him get away with this," Kyle whispered to Robin.

"I know, but what can we do to stop him? You can barely stand, and I'm not some karate master who can take all these people out by myself. We need way more firepower than what we have, or are ever likely to get."

"If you can get some of the water, at least it might be able to fix my legs," Kyle pointed out. "That's a start, at least."

"True," Robin agreed, "but do you think he'll let me do it?"

"Give it a shot. Just don't try to be subtle. He hates people who try to do anything sneaky around him."

"That's wonderfully hypocritical of him," Robin grumbled. She helped Kyle to the wall of the cave so he could lean against it. Following his advice, she walked straight to the Fountain's edge and knelt as if she had every right to be there.

"What do you think you're doing, Miss Grey?" Russell's voice demanded from behind her.

"It can't hurt to test the water now, can it?" she asked, turning on her knees. She hated the symbolism of kneeling before her adversary, but it couldn't be helped. She was too tired to make the effort to stand.

"If you're thinking of taking a drink, Miss Gray, I'll—"

"Oh, no!" Robin's horror was genuine. "I have no desire to become immortal. If, in fact, that's what the water does. I was only going to use it to fix Kyle's legs."

"His legs?" Russell turned to look at his son, who shifted enough that the burns on his calves were clearly visible. "Why didn't you say anything earlier, Kyle?"

"'Wasting daylight,'" Kyle quoted through clenched teeth.

"That's right, I did say that." Russell looked thoughtful. "Well, it can't hurt. Go ahead, Miss Grey. The results could be interesting." None of the others offered to help her, so Robin cupped some of the water in her hands. It was cool in her hands and felt just like water she might have scooped out of the dolphin pool back at her job. As soon as it was in her hands, she felt enough strength return that she could get to her feet without too much trouble. She managed to carry it over to where Kyle leaned against the stone wall without too much of it leaking between her fingers. Kyle flipped himself around so that she could reach the injured areas. Carefully, she let the water pour over the burns, half of her handful for each leg. Then she sat back to let the others see what was happening.

Just as it had when the water cured Adam's wounds, the burns began to glow gently. Light flashed from them, forcing Robin to cover her eyes. When she looked again, the burns had vanished and Kyle was twisting his legs this way and that, trying to get a better view.

"It works," he breathed, as if too awed to say more.

"It works!" Russell echoed, much louder. "It works! I really have discovered the bona fide Fountain of Youth! I'll be richer than old Bill Gates by next week!"

Robin stood beside Kyle, who had apparently given up trying to see his formerly burned skin with any kind of clarity. "Now what, genius?' she wanted to know.

"We're both cured. That's something."

"What? How—?" Robin reached around to the back of neck. Her fingers were still fairly wet from holding the water, and as the remaining drops fell on her skin she felt the burning sensation fade. She gave Kyle a mock glare. "You really shouldn't manipulate people like that."

"And here I was hoping for a thank-you," he answered with a roll of his eyes, followed by a wink.

"Thank you. Just tell me next time instead of pulling a trick like that. The question remains: now what?"

Kyle gave her a helpless look. "I've been _trying_ to concoct a plan. Nothing's coming to me. What we really need is another Leviathan to protect this place, but that's not likely to happen in the next sixty seconds."

"You might want to rethink that," came a deep voice from beside them, carrying the accent of a native islander. Robin jumped, and Kyle put a protective arm around her. In the entrance to the Fountain cave stood a slender woman. With the charms braided into her dreadlocked hair, myriad beaded necklaces around her neck, and tiny circular tattoos pockmarking the dark skin of her face, she could only be a _voudou _priestess. Robin knew such women—and men—existed, and that sometimes islanders still went to them for cures, help with finding lost objects, and other such small magic. She had never seen one in the flesh until today.

Studying the woman more closely, trying to decide why she looked familiar, something came bubbling up from the back of her mind: _a woman with skin like sable, hair wild as the spray, and a smile cold like the ocean deeps_. It was Adam's voice speaking, warning her from out of the past.

"Calypso," Robin breathed. The woman gave her a small smile, and Robin shivered.

There were several echoing clicks around the room as all of Russell's team members except for Robin and Kyle's pilot trained their guns on the intruder. "Who are you, and how did you get here?" Russell demanded.

"Well now," the woman said, her chilly smile widening, "Seeing as it's from me you were planning on stealing, I think I've got more call to be asking those questions than you. Lucky thing is, I already know the answers."

She began to walk forward, her bare feet making no noise on the rock floor. "Fire!" Russell ordered.

"Dad, don't!" Kyle cautioned, but it was too late. At the crack of the guns, amplified many times by the cave walls, Robin couldn't help screaming. In the seconds before the bullets reached her, Claypso held up one graceful hand and waved it, palm out. There was a clatter as the bullets fell to the floor, each encased in a perfect coffin of ice.

"Now, that wasn't very respectful," she said. She put her hands on her hips like a scolding mother. "I should do the same to every one of you. I've killed men for lesser offences against me. They come down into my embrace for no better reason than my mood. I'm in a generous one today." She started towards Russell again, swaying her hips and making her long skirt swish. "Your family owes me a debt, I think."

"A debt?" Russell repeated. He was holding his ground against the advancing goddess, but he seemed unable to tear his eyes off her. Robin was reminded of the way a snake hypnotizes a mouse before it pounces, and it was interesting to see Russell no longer in the position of the snake.

"Yes, a debt," Calypso repeated, as if talking to a small child. "Your family has been responsible for the loss of two of my Leviathans in the last three centuries. This last one served me faithfully for almost a century of your mortal time."

_Not Adam du Gris, then, _thought Robin. _I wonder what did happen to him?_

"So I think it's high time you returned the favor," Calypso continued.

"What are you getting at?" Russell wanted to know.

Calypso knelt to pick up one of the bullets. She turned it over in her fingers. "This is the way I see things: you got a choice. Either you agree to serve me as the guardian of this place, or you will very soon look just like this cartridge: frozen in the ice. Either way, I will be satisfied."

"But—but," stuttered Russell as the severity of his situation began to sink in. "What about him? He's as much a part of the family as I am." He gestured at Kyle.

"No!" Robin burst out. She couldn't bear the thought of Kyle sharing Adam's fate and being beyond her reach forever. Kyle's hand tightened on her shoulder.

"Ah yes, him," Calypso said, turning her chilly gaze for a moment on Kyle. "Part of the lineage, indeed. And yet a different man from his father entirely. You might wish to push your fate onto him, Mister Carey, but I could never bind him. He is already tied to the mortal world."

"But I have ties to the mortal world!" It was the first time Robin had heard Russell almost sound like a child. "I have a company to run, assets, stocks…"

"Not a one of those things is permanent, mister, which is what matters for my purposes." Calypso went still, crossing her arms over her chest. "And my patience has limits. Make your choice."

Obviously straining under the gaze of every pair of eyes in the cave, especially those of the goddess, Russell managed, "I-I agree."

Even with her back to them, Robin could tell Calypso was smiling her cold smile. She could almost feel it. "Shake to seal it, then," the goddess said, holding out a hand. Kyle looked away, burying his face in Robin's hair. Two hot tears dropped onto her scalp. Robin turned into his hold and put her free arm around him so that she could comfort him and hide her face in his shoulder at the same time. Much as she felt Russell deserved what he had just brought on himself, she found that she couldn't bear to watch him lose his humanity, either.

There was no sound to indicate the deal had been made. Calypso only said, "I give you the chance I've given the others: to find something to tie you to the mortal world in ten years. If not, then our little deal is unbreakable for all time. Now go." There was a long pause, then a splash.

Robin opened her eyes the smallest fraction. Calypso was still standing by the Fountain. There were only a few extra ripples on the water's surface to indicate where the Leviathan, once Russell Carey, had gone. The other humans in the room all wore expressions ranging between shock and horror. Robin glanced up at Kyle and pulled him even closer upon seeing the tear tracks on his face. There were only a few, and he seemed unaware of them. Instead, he addressed Calypso.

"Forgive the question, but weren't you…uh…supposed to tell him what his job is, and that he's immortal, and all those things you told Adam du Gris?"

"Ah, but he knew, thanks to that memory-playing toy you have. He might have chosen not to believe then, but he'll recall it all now." Calypso had spoken all this with her back to Kyle and Robin. She shifted slightly to look at Russell's team. "Don't think I'll be letting you off the hook." She snorted. "Always the same. Follow orders first, ask questions later. At least one of you has a few brains. The rest of you might as well keep doing what you're best at."

She waved a hand, adding a little flick of the fingers at the end. There was an echoing clatter as all of the draw weapons clattered to the floor. The bodies of the team members, with the exception of Kyle and Robin's long-suffering pilot, soon followed. They didn't even have time to protest as their skin turned rubbery gray and their shapes twisted. Within seconds, a small new pod of dolphins were writhing and squeaking in alarm to one another, squirming as they tried to get a look at what had happened to them.

"They'll soon forget they were ever human," Calypso remarked in an almost conversational tone.

"Shouldn't we…find a way to help them to sea?" the still-human pilot enquired. He was white in the face and Robin could see his hands trembling even from across the cave, but other than that he seemed to have taken the abrupt transformation of his former employer and comrades fairly well. Robin thought he must have a constitution of iron. She was badly shaken, and she had at least had a small inkling of the power the sea goddess had at her disposal.

"I suppose I can do that," Calypso said. "Wouldn't be fair to create servants and leave them stranded where they can't do their new master some good." She waved again. The dolphins vanished, then reappeared in the Fountain. They clicked uncertainly to one another and at Calypso. "Well, go on!" she snapped. As one they dove, probably afraid they would provoke another hand-wave.

Calypso made a satisfied noise. "Not a bad day's work. Usually it takes far longer to find the perfect new Leviathan to guard this place. Which reminds me…" She finally turned around to face Robin, Kyle, and the pilot that had come to stand next to them. She waved a finger at them. "You three had best take advantage of my generous mood. Leave my island now, and you will arrive home safely. Delay any longer than you have to, and I guarantee you nothing."

Robin hesitated when the others backed towards the cave entrance, but both Kyle and the pilot took her shoulders and pulled her with them. She was forced to follow or risk accumulating more bruises. Her last glimpse of Calypso when she turned back to look was of the goddess perched on the edge of the Fountain, skirt rolled up to her knees as she swirled both feet and hands in the water like a happy toddler. It was an odd image, considering all Calypso had just done. But then Robin couldn't help smiling a little. It appeared as if the Fountain of Youth could affect even the Goddess of the Sea, in its own way.

The little group did not speak as they made their way back to the beach. At least this time the forest did not feel so menacing, perhaps because they had the momentary goodwill of Calypso to be there. Nevertheless, Robin still stuck close to Kyle and kept her hand in his.

The helicopter was still waiting on the beach, as if none of what had transpired in the Fountain cave had ever happened.

They all looked at each other in a vague, helpless way. "Well, you're the boss now," the pilot said to Kyle, arms folded in a businesslike manner. "Where to?"

"Back to HQ, first, I think," said Kyle after a moment's consideration. "We have some unfinished business to take care of there. Unless there's someplace you'd rather go first?"

The pilot shrugged. "HQ it is, sir. I sure hope we got enough fuel to get anywhere." He clambered into the front seat of the chopper and checked the dials. "I think we just might squeak by. What are you two just standing there for? You heard what she said. We're supposed to get out of here A-SAP."

Robin and Kyle looked at each other. Before he could step towards the chopper, Robin put her arms around Kyle. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear.

"It hasn't really sunk in yet," he whispered back. "And we have other things to worry about right now. We've got to go before our get-out-of-here-free card expires. Come on."

Ever the gentleman, he helped Robin climb into the chopper first. They buckled themselves in, and the roaring of the rotors started up. Robin felt exhaustion start to creep over her as soon as she sat down, so much so that she hardly felt any nerves at being in a helicopter again. The short burst of energy the Fountain water had bestowed seemed to already be wearing off. She leaned to look out the window one last time at the island. They were no more than one hundred feet in the air before a heat wave seemed to pass between them and the land. The island faded from view in its wake, and churning blue ocean took its place.

"It's gone," said Kyle over the microphone. Robin nodded without taking her eyes from the window. The island's secret was safe again. As she turned, she thought she caught a glimpse of white in the water out of the corner of her eye. When she looked again, there was nothing.

"What is it?" asked Kyle. She could see an anxious wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"Nothing," she replied. She put her head on his shoulder. "Just the sun on the water."

"If you say so," he answered, putting an arm around her. She noticed he didn't look out the window himself.

Slowly she allowed her eyes to drift shut. Just as she was about to fall asleep, she felt the pressure on her skull that meant Kyle's head had come to rest on hers.

_

* * *

Author's Note: Sorry about the wait, I expected to have this done awhile ago. Graduating from college tends to take up an entire weekend, I've discovered. Plus this chapter turned out to be super-long because I didn't want to leave all of you with another cliff hanger. With any luck, there are only a few more chapters to go. In the interim, this story passed its one-year anniversary on fanfiction (small amount of confetti). See my updated profile for information on possible upcoming projects once this one has finally reached its conclusion. Keep checking for updates, and tell me what you think of this chapter!_

_SamoaPhoenix9  
_


	25. Tale as Old as Time

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

**Robin, 2017**

The warehouse room where the Animus was stored looked exactly the same.

"Somehow I expected it to have collapsed, with the driving force behind it gone," Robin remarked as they entered. Her nap in the helicopter had made her somewhat more energetic.

"You've seen too many bad action movies," Kyle said. "Things like that only happen in the metaphorical sense."

"We've seen so many other things that happen only in movies, I was thinking…"

"Anyone would think you _wanted _this place to collapse. Don't you want to find out what happened to Adam and Vanessa?"

"Of course I do. Although I could always do it the old fashioned way and look it up in a history book. That's where you found Vanessa in the first place, isn't it?"

"If you don't want to use the Animus again—"

"I do!" she said quickly, though she could tell he had been teasing her. He probably wanted to see what happened as much as she did.

"Not now, though," he said. "We're both too tired. I'm not sure how long this will take, and your mind needs to be rested to sustain the link with the machine."

Robin wanted to argue, but she couldn't resist his logic. They had waited this long to find out what happened, and now there was no one breathing down their necks.

Kyle insisted on sleeping with his head on the conference table in the main room while Robin slept on her bed, despite Robin's objections that there was no need for him to be uncomfortable. When she grew tired of arguing, she threw her pillow at him and curled up on her bed without it. She half expected him to throw it back at her, but instead she heard his footsteps retreating. Evidently he had decided to give up at winning half the battle.

He was already up and at his computer by the time she came out of her room the next day.

"How long?" Robin asked with a yawn.

"Good morning," he greeted her. "Surprisingly, we both slept almost twenty hours. You beat me by half an hour. I had someone bring in breakfast, if you're hungry." He indicated the stack of pancakes on a plate on the table, along with butter and syrup. Another plate sticky with crumbs indicated he'd already eaten.

"Are these gluten-free?" she asked as she sat down and helped herself.

"No, actually."

She turned to stare at him. "No? But…"

"I'm trying an experiment. The touch of the Fountain's water is supposed to cure any ailment as well as injury. I wanted to see if it worked on genetic disorders as well. So far so good, but then, it hasn't been very long." He laughed at her expression. "Don't worry, I haven't poisoned myself. Even if the Fountain hasn't worked, I'll just get tired and maybe feel some intestinal pain. I'll know whether it worked or not. Trust me."

"All right. I guess you know what you're doing." Robin turned to her own pancakes. When she had finished, she got up and walked over to the Animus. Kyle, anticipating her, was already there to help her up.

"Ready?" he asked, going back behind his computer screen. Robin nodded. As soon as the dome had closed over her head, she felt a deep sorrow begin to creep over her.

_This must be what it would have felt like if Kyle had died out there yesterday in that helicopter, _was her final thought before her mind slipped into Vanessa's.

-0-0-0-

**Vanessa, 1767**

"Adam, Adam…" Vanessa rubbed his webbed hand against her cheek. Her eyes burned, but she had nothing left inside her to cry. She was no longer aware of anything but how still he was. "My fault…all my fault."

Carefully, she laid his hand down on his chest and lifted his heavy head into her lap. She stroked his cheek with her fingers, not minding the roughness of the skin. "Adam, my beloved. Please come back. I promise…I will never leave you again. Please."

His mouth was slightly open, exposing the ugly points of his teeth, but she was past caring. Gently, she leaned down and fulfilled his only request to her. The one that had driven them apart and would now bring them together for the first and final time. She kissed him.

She had expected to at least feel some pain on her lips from his teeth, but did not. Distantly, she heard Edward gasp. Only a small part of her mind noticed either of these things. She did notice, with all her being, when Adam took a small breath.

She leaned back immediately. "Oh, Adam—" she began joyfully, and then stopped.

He was lying precisely where Adam had been; she had just kissed him, but it was not Adam. The man's head, which was on her lap, was covered with curly brown hair that spilled onto her soaked dress. His skin was not sickly white, but as tan as any European's who lived a life in the islands. He had _eyebrows_, for Heaven's sake. She could only stare.

His eyes blinked open; they were a deep, clear green without a trace of blank emptiness. They flickered around the room and then focused on her face. "Vanessa?" he whispered. His eyebrows knitted when she did not respond. "What's the matter?" When he spoke, she could see his teeth: ever so slightly uneven in the front and far from perfect, but certainly not razor-sharp. The voice was familiar, however, down to its slight French accent.

"You…you… _Adam_?" she stumbled.

"Yes?" He sat up slowly, clearly unnerved by her strange behavior. "How did you get here? Are you all right?" When he moved, she got a better chance to study his face. This was enough for her to find features she recognized: sculpted cheekbones and a strong French nose. All that had been left of Adam's human face, masked as the Leviathan's animal features had overtaken his own. She was looking at his true face, for the first time.

"You're…" She held up a hand and wriggled her fingers to indicate that he should look at his.

His puzzled expression became one of shock as he looked at first one no-longer-webbed hand and then the other. He ran a hand over his face, pausing to press one thumb gently against a tooth to test its sharpness. Then he threaded fingers through his hair, rubbing some of the curled locks between thumb and forefinger.

He looked at her. "Is this a dream?"

Slowly, she reached forward and replaced his hand on the lock of hair he had just been fingering. "Is it possible to be in the same dream?" she asked.

Someone cleared his throat. Vanessa and Adam jumped guiltily apart and turned to Edward. He raised his eyebrows at his daughter, and she could feel herself flushing. She had forgotten his presence entirely. "Papa…you remember Adam?"

"I don't believe we were ever properly introduced," Edward said, with laudable dignity. "But if we are foregoing all propriety, then perhaps introductions are unnecessary as well."

Vanessa was the first to realize what Edward was hinting at. Adam had transformed from his shark shape when he had been wounded, which meant that even now that he was fully human he was still not wearing any clothing. So used to seeing him without a stitch on, Vanessa had failed to notice. "Adam, perhaps you should don your—" she began.

"Ah!" he cried, plunging one hand onto the small underwater ledge in the Fountain with one hand while attempting to cover himself with the other. Vanessa and Edward politely turned their faces away, though it seemed a useless gesture after spending several minutes staring at him, albeit not due to his lack of clothing.

There was some splashing, and then a few soft dripping sounds. Adam made a small, startled noise, presumably at the unexpected chill of soaked cloth on human skin. "All right. I am decent," he said.

He was sitting with legs crossed when Vanessa turned back to him, running the tip of one finger over his palm as if he had never seen it before. "I still can't believe it is real," he said in an awed voice. "How did it happen?"

"I haven't any idea," Vanessa said. She took the hand his finger had been tracing. "We brought you in here and put the water on your wound. You healed, but then you didn't come round. I thought you were…"

"I cannot remember." He paused, and put his free hand on top of hers. "The last thing I recall is seeing you at the ship's rail, and then a terrible pain in my side. But I must have been moments from leaving this world. The Fountain, powerful as it is, cannot restore the dead to life."

Vanessa bowed her head. "I am so sorry, Adam. I missed you every minute after I left. And then to watch you nearly die before my eyes, without ever having the chance to tell you…"

"That's it!" Edward exclaimed. Both Vanessa and Adam stared at him. The look of excitement he wore was akin to the one often on his face when he had realized what would make an invention work.

"What?" asked Vanessa.

"Don't you see, daughter? To break the pact with Calypso, Adam had to find something to tie him to the mortal world with an unshakable bond. He found it in you, and the pact was broken when you promised never to leave him again and meant it with all your heart."

Adam turned to look at Vanessa. The sparkle of hope in his startling green eyes made her heart race. "Is this true?"

"She kissed you as well," Edward added helpfully.

"Papa!" Vanessa flushed. She could hardly glance at Adam, though he still held her hand in his; her face felt as though it were on fire and she could feel the sweat on her palm. "I…"

Through her tangled hair she saw Adam's gentle smile. "I will spare us both the embarrassment of asking for another for me to remember. But…perhaps some other time?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Vanessa exclaimed, though her face felt even hotter and she heard Edward chuckle.

Adam stood, drawing her to her feet with him. The moment he let go of her hand she impulsively flung her arms around him. She felt him stiffen beneath her for a moment, unused to the contact, but then he slowly put his own arms around her. He leaned down and whispered, "I thought I could learn to live without you. I thought, once you were gone, things would return to the way they were before. It took me a mere ten seconds after your ship was off the horizon to realize what a fool I'd been."

"And then every waking moment ached," she whispered back. "Adam, I did mean it when I said I would never leave you again."

He tilted her chin with one finger. "Did you? Even when you knew I was a monster trapped here for eternity?"

"You were never a monster, and it took me far too long to realize it." It occurred to her that, with their faces so close, it was silly to wait for a later time because of a small thing like embarrassment at her father's presence. She stretched up on her toes and kissed Adam. This time he did not stiffen; nor did he seem particularly surprised. His hands slid up to cup the back of her head. The kiss was everything she had come to expect from Adam: gentleness backed by a careful, almost hesitant strength. It was like no kiss she had experienced before. There was nothing forceful or hurried about it. They had all the time in the world.

Edward looked smug when they finally drew apart. "It seems we _are_ throwing propriety out the window. May I presume this means I am to gain a son-in-law in the near future?" Vanessa and Adam glanced at one another; it was Adam who nodded. Edward smiled. "Excellent. I am glad to see your intentions are honorable towards my daughter. I give the pair of you my full permission and blessing." He glanced around. "Though I never imagined it would be under such circumstances. Come; we should return to the ship before Captain Sparrow decides to sail without us."

"Captain _Sparrow_?" Adam repeated. "Is _he_ in command of that vessel that attacked me?"

"No!" Vanessa exclaimed, at the same time her father said, "Yes."

"At the moment," Edward elaborated, taking pity on Adam's confusion. "He assumed command after you were wounded."

"Who was in command?" Adam wanted to know.

"Captain Kerry. The same man who captained the ship that brought us to the Caribbean in the first place. He found us in Port Royal, kidnapped us, and forced us to come back here to search for the Fountain." Vanessa paused. "He wanted to use me against you. When I refused to give him information about you, he tied us to the mast."

Adam's green eyes clouded. "If I had sunk that ship…"

"You didn't. It no longer matters," Vanessa said quickly. "We should get back. I'm grateful to Captain Sparrow for all his help, but I still do not trust him."

"Good to hear, miss mouse. A lovely creature such as yourself should never trust a pirate," came Jack's voice from the cave entrance.

"What are you doing here? And who is commanding the ship?" Vanessa demanded.

Sparrow grinned. "Opportune moment, love, just like I told you." Vanessa just waited. "Seems an old mate of mine managed to get herself in a bit of a bind, along with most of the crew, in owing a debt of sorts to your charming Captain Kerry. While she wasn't as pleased to see me as one would hope, considering the circumstances," here Sparrow paused to rub his chin ruefully, "she has promised not to leave without us. So—"

Adam leaned down to whisper in Vanessa's ear. "Is there a point to this?"

"Eventually," Vanessa sighed.

Sparrow was still talking. "—ship's in good hands till I get back. Just got one thing to take care of and we'll be on our way." He started walking towards the Fountain, reaching into a pouch on his belt as he went.

"What are you doing?" Vanessa asked.

"Thought it was quite obvious, mousey. The charts showing the way here have always been mine, savvy?"

Vanessa crossed her arms. "I didn't know you had ambitions for immortality."

"The immortal Captain Sparrow. Always liked the sound of that." Sparrow shrugged. "But there's always a catch, especially with the Sea Goddess, and I'm not one for gills. But Calypso owes a friend of mine a favor, and she'll pay it readily enough."

"A friend?" Adam repeated. He sounded surprised. Vanessa remembered him saying once that he had never seen a man come here for the sake of another.

"Don't sound so—" Sparrow stopped, and examined Adam as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh, hallo, beastie. Didn't recognize you without the fins. Well, what says Calypso? Will she repay her debt or are you going to do something stupid?"

"Until five minutes ago I would have been obligated to do so, but it appears that I no longer speak for her." Adam smiled at Vanessa and took her hand.

It took Sparrow only a few seconds to process this. "Ah. Well then, if you three'll excuse me…" He pulled a small brown bottle from his belt that looked more suited to holding liquor than magical water. Vanessa looked with a small amount of alarm at Adam, but he did not seem inclined to say anything further. It seemed he had decided if the Sea Goddess did not want Jack Sparrow to have the water, she would have to stop the pirate herself. To Vanessa's surprise and intense relief, nothing supernatural happened as Sparrow drew the water into his bottle, corked it, and tucked it safely back into his belt. He turned to the other three with a grin. "All hands to the boats!"

Adam and Vanessa exchanged one last glance, then left the Fountain cave after Jack. Edward brought up the rear. Vanessa noticed that Adam did not look back. She herself kept looking around nervously as they made their way through the woods. The whole island felt far less friendly than it had at any time during her several-week stay. She could only guess that they were being encouraged to leave, now that there was no Leviathan to give them his goodwill to be there. All things considered, she was glad to reach the shore and find the two small ship's boats waiting for them.

In order to spare their energy, it seemed logical to pair off. Surprisingly, Edward dragged Adam to one of the boats. Apparently he wanted a private word with his future son-in-law, and trusted Jack Sparrow enough not to do anything dishonorable to his daughter in the meantime. Vanessa thought this trust was probably misplaced, but she didn't argue. She had a few questions for Jack in the meantime. Maybe if she kept him talking he wouldn't have time to do something…untrustworthy.

"Who is this person you plan to take the water to?" she asked as soon as they were out of the worst breakers. "Why does he need it?"

"She," corrected Sparrow.

"You seem to have quite a few lady friends," Vanessa observed.

"That I do," Jack agreed with a provocative grin. "However, the woman into whose personal business you're now prying is of the married persuasion."

That was enough to shut Vanessa up for a few minutes. When they were about halfway to the Siren Princess, she asked, "Why does _she _have need of water from the Fountain of Youth? Is she dying?"

"Aren't we all, love?" Now Sparrow was being deliberately vague and enjoying her frustration.

"Is she dying of some ailment, or a wound?"

"The better question is who is _not _dying." He let her puzzle over this for a few more minutes. Eventually, he relented a little. "Let's just say you and the beastie are lucky. Tia's never been one for loopholes. A contract with her is a lifelong one."

"Tia?"

"One of a few names I've known the Sea Goddess by over the years." Sparrow's shrug was mostly hidden in a pull of the oars. Vanessa didn't feel any closer to discovering why this married friend of the Captain's needed to be eternally young based on his frustrating hints. Now that she thought about it, however, Adam had once mentioned others served his mistress, under similar terms. He had spoken about the Flying Dutchman…

"Is the captain of the Flying Dutchman immortal?" she asked.

"Very good, little Mouse. Need I give away any more secrets?" Vanessa shook her head. It was fairly obvious, now that it had all come together in her mind. Sparrow must somehow be acquainted with the apparently mortal wife of the Flying Dutchman's captain. The water was for her.

Sparrow was unusually quiet for the rest of the trip. Vanessa used the time to ponder what she had just learned. Compared to the situation of this friend of Sparrow's, she and Adam had gotten off lightly. She hadn't had to give up her own mortality to be with him. Though she would have done it, had that been the only choice.

Adam and Edward had already reached the Siren Princess by the time Vanessa's boat arrived. She watched the two of them climb the rope ladder that had been dropped down the side. Even from a distance there was something sinuous about the way Adam moved with the rocking of the ship that reminded her very strongly of a fish. She wondered if he would lose that over time.

She climbed up first when she and Jack Sparrow pulled up against the ship themselves. Adam was there at the top to take her hand. Most of the visible crew were huddled together on deck, staring with wide eyes. Vanessa was willing to wager they were as superstitious as Captain White's crew.

A dark-skinned woman of about thirty years stood between the newly boarded four and the rest of the crew. She was dressed in a simple rough-spun skirt and tunic, with a kerchief kept her long, flowing hair from her face. She crossed her arms.

"I see you found them, Captain Sparrow."

"So I did, Annamaria. And you kept things all ship-shape while I was gone. Knew I left her in good hands."

The woman called Annamaria smiled, but other than that did not seem much affected by the flattery. "It wasn't that difficult. Most of the crew had been going to mutiny within the next few days as it was."

"What about the ones loyal to Kerry?" Edward wanted to know.

"They were easy enough to pick out." Annamaria shrugged, her lips twisting in a slightly smug expression. "The biggest, dumbest, ugliest ones." The rest of the crew chuckled behind her. "We were going to put them in the brig, but it seems to have been almost destroyed in the fight with the unnatural shark. So I had some of the men build a new one. They should be almost done now. We can cast off whenever you like, Cap'n."

"And Kerry?" Vanessa found herself asking. She was almost afraid to hear the answer, either way.

"Down below. He ain't dead, but he's not much longer for this world." Annamaria's eyes went to Jack. "We should expect a visit from the Dutchman sometime on the voyage."

"Right. Cast off, then. Let's give ol' Captain Turner a bit of a chase. Just for old times' sake."

Annamaria rolled her eyes. "This bucket of tar ain't the Pearl, Jack Sparrow. He'll catch us easy." She turned to the crew, and bellowed, "Hoist anchor! Ready the sails!" The crew jumped to obey, though they gave Adam especially a wide berth. Jack hopped up the forecastle to what seemed his most comfortable place: at the wheel. Unusual for a captain; they tended to let one of the mates steer for them, but then Sparrow was a pirate and unlikely to be conventional about _anything_.

Edward ushered the younger pair into the forecastle. "Best we keep out of the way and let the crew do their work."

It took some searching, but they finally found the passengers' cabins. There were three of them, so each of the group picked a door and opened it. Unfortunately for Vanessa, the one she chose was already occupied by the inert and bandaged form of Captain Kerry. She backed away with a small shriek, which not only brought Adam and Edward peering into the room to see what had troubled her but seemed to rouse Kerry somewhat. His eyes opened and rolled towards the door. He made a gargled noise that sounded like "You."

Not certain what made her do it, Vanessa stepped into the room. "Yes, it is us."

"Nessie—" Edward started.

"How likely do you think it is that Jack Sparrow could be persuaded to give up his vial of Fountain water to save him?" she turned to whisper, hoping Kerry couldn't hear her.

"Not likely," Edward and Adam said at the same moment.

"I don't think it likely, either. That being the case, not even someone like this deserves to die alone. It wouldn't be right."

There was a slight pause. Adam said, "I will see if I can find you a chair or a stool."

"Thank you."

A stool was found, and brought. Edward did not seem inclined to participate in the vigil and slipped away to the galley, promising to bring something back for all of them—even Kerry, though odds seemed low he would be able to take even water. Adam settled on the floor next to Vanessa's stool with his back against the berth where Kerry lay. The former Leviathan took Vanessa's hand in one of his and stroked it in a reassuring manner. For his part, Kerry's eyes had closed again and his breathing had become more labored. It was apparent from the placement of the bandages Jack Sparrow's shot had hit him in the chest. Even knowing he would have felt little remorse at sending herself and the two men she loved most to the grave, Vanessa could not help feeling a bit of pity for him.

Little changed in the next few hours. Edward came and went. Not even the smell of broth brought Kerry around again, and Vanessa was grateful for Adam's silent support. Every time she looked at him, she was amazed that he was there, sitting so calmly, free at last because of their devotion to one another. She had never dreamed she could feel so happy about the future.

It was night when Kerry took a turn for the worse. Vanessa had climbed off her stool and was curled up in the circle of Adam's arm when they were both roused by someone straining for a last gulp of air. In moments, the pair were on their feet.

An eerie sight met their eyes. It was nearly pitch black in the cabin; almost no moonlight was making its way through the tiny porthole. The only things that could be seen where the whites of the dying man's eyes. His choking noises seemed almost deafening in the absence of sight.

An icy hand gripped Vanessa's wrist, and she bit back a cry. Adam must have felt her shudder of surprise and fear because his arm tightened around her shoulder in a protective manner. Kerry managed to gasp out a few last sounds before falling limply back onto the berth. Shuddering, Vanessa pried his fingers from her wrist and laid his hands gently onto his breast. Then she turned to look at the outline of Adam's face, floating above her in the darkness.

"Did it sound as if he said…'my wife, son?'" she asked tentatively.

"Indeed," Adam agreed. From what she could see, his expression was troubled.

"He was _married_?" Vanessa could not suppress another shudder. This made his interest in her even more revolting. Still… "I wonder if he wanted us to find them?"

"We should worry about this later," Adam said soothingly. "Now, let us go and find your father and alert someone on duty."

-0-0-

_Blue mist is slightly blinding after the near-pitch blackness. It swirls peacefully, and eventually the characters concealed within it come into better focus._

"_Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

_

* * *

_

_Author's Note: Another super-long one for you. I wrote the beginning of the Vanessa section the moment I finished chapter 21 so that when I got back to Vanessa and Adam it segwayed perfectly. I was also eager to write that transformation scene and the reaction to it. The rest of this chapter was built around that._

_A few notes about the Pirates of the Caribbean stuff. I missed Annamaria from Black Pearl in the Dead Man and World's End; she actually seemed to be someone who could keep Jack in line. So I had her return for a brief cameo. Some of you who bought At World's End may want to remind me that according to some of the commentary, Will should be freed from captainship of the Dutchman if Elizabeth stays faithful to him for the first ten years. I would like to think that this is actually the case and they will eventually get their happily-ever-after, but as this is contradicted within the movie itself I unfortunately have to look for other alternatives in my romantic mind to keep them together. I have been planning for Jack to take water from the Fountain to Elizabeth ever since I introduced him into the story. It's my way of at least attempting to fix what I found to be an unsatisfactory ending to At World's End. Some of you may disagree, and that's fine. I'm leaving it up to Elizabeth (and your imaginations) whether she chooses to drink the water or not, and when._

_The next chapter is the final one, and will hopefully (unless I've forgotten something) wrap everything up. It's mostly written at the moment except for the very end, so expect it soon!_

_Thanks, as always, go to Cywyllog for editing my stunted Jack-speak into something believable. She somehow manages to take what's in my head and make it sound like Jack Sparrow. Lucky for her, this is the last time._

_SamoaPhoenix9  
_


	26. Song as Old as Rhyme

_Disclaimer: I do not own Beauty and the Beast, Pirates of the Caribbean, or Assassin's Creed._

_Brief flashes of short scenes fade in and out of the mist in slow succession, at just the right speed for comprehension. The viewer remains firm in the knowledge that she is Robin Grey, yet views it all from her ancestress' eyes._

_The deck of the Siren Princess appears first, pulled up to that of another ship. The other ship is enormous, bearing five sails, and heavily armed. Captain Sparrow is leaning on the Siren Princess' rail. He is having a loud, cheerful conversation across the gap between ships with an older man with a weathered face and stringy black hair who the Captain refers to as 'Bootstrap.'_

_From inside the forecastle of the Siren Princess emerges a younger man with dark brown hair covered by a headcloth similar to Sparrow's, handsome in a distant sort of way, with piercing dark eyes. He leads a shadowy version of the former Captain Kerry. They walk across a gangplank set up for the purpose between the ships. The younger man sends Kerry first, then pauses at the rail to affectionately shake hands with Sparrow. They exchange a few words; Jack reassuringly pats his belt where the Fountain water is. Then the other man turns to give a polite nod to Vanessa/Robin, and follows Kerry across the gangplank._

_This scene is overwhelmed by blue mist, and another takes its place, the pleasant female voice assuring "Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

_--_

_Vanessa/Robin stands clutching a bouquet of tropical flowers in sweaty palms. She wears the dark blue silk dress Adam presented her with on the island, miraculously recovered after the Swifts' unexpected vanishment from the inn at which they stayed in Port Royal. Edward smiles from beside her; he is dressed in a new set of clothes._

_"Ready?" he asks. Vanessa/Robin nods. Edward adds, "You've never looked lovelier, Nessie. And I could not be giving you to a man more worthy of you."_

_"Papa," Vanessa/Robin asks, "When you decided to take us to the Caribbean all those months ago, is this what you pictured for us?"_

_"Hardly," Edward chuckles. "What do you take me for, daughter, some sort of soothsayer? No mortal man could have foreseen this future."_

_There is a tap on the closed double doors beside them. Vanessa/Robin smiles nervously at Edward and takes his arm. They position themselves in front of the doors, which are then thrown open before them. The chapel revealed within is simple and small; there are very few witnesses seated in the pews. There is only one musician: a flautist, at Adam's special request. This is an event of little import to the town of Port Royal, as the Swifts and the former Leviathan are still relative newcomers despite having settled in a small house within the town proper nearly two months before. Vanessa/Robin doesn't mind having so few people see her wed. There could be two or two hundred present; what matters to her is that this day has finally arrived._

_She smiles with unrestrained joy when she sees Adam waiting at the end of the aisle. Vanessa/Robin fancifully imagines the light in his green eyes dancing along to the flute music. So different from when those eyes were blank and bottomless pools._

_Edward hands her off to Adam, and the minister begins: "Dearly beloved…"_

_The rest of the words are lost as this scene, too, fades, and another voice overtakes the man in robes: "Fast-forwarding memory to a more recent one."_

_--_

_Yet another scene comes into focus through the mist, heralded this time by a rap of knuckles on wood. Vanessa/Robin comes alert from where she has been dozing in a chair and heaves herself up to answer the door. She wishes her father or Adam were there, but Adam is off working and Edward is in his workshop in the back yard of the house. Even on the periphery of her vision, it is obvious to the observer in Vanessa's mind that she is pregnant, and heavily so._

_She opens the front door to a thin man with a sharply hooked nose, clutching a thick envelope and dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief. He is obviously not used to the Caribbean heat, and is dressed in much better quality than anyone in the du Gris' neighborhood. Vanessa/Robin offers a friendly smile while she waits for him to state his business._

_"Pardon me, madame, but is this the residence of Monsieur Adam du Gris?" he asks with a French accent much heavier than any she's yet heard in Port Royal._

_"Indeed it is. I am Mrs. du Gris, his wife. Please, come in."_

_He ignores her request. "Is the gentleman in question at home?"_

_"I'm afraid not; he is out on business at the moment." Adam has become a fisherman, in the local waters only so that he is home each and every night. He is praised for his almost miraculous ability to bring in a catch even when others' nets are empty for miles. "He will return this evening. But please, come in. You are welcome to wait for him here, or to return at a later time, whichever is more convenient for you."_

_"Thank you, Madame, but I must reluctantly decline your kind offer." He hands her the envelope. "Please give this to Monsieur du Gris the moment he arrives home, and then be so good as to ask him to meet me at the Grand Dolphin Inn once he has read its contents." The man makes 'Dolphin' sound like 'Dauphin.' Vanessa/Robin suppresses a smile._

_"Thank you. I shall." She nods to the man, as a curtsy of any sort is impossible in her condition._

_"Be certain that you do. It is of utmost importance." The man pauses. "As the lady of the house, you are free to examine the contents of the letter as well." He nods to her and strolls off down the street._

_Puzzled by his manner, Vanessa closes the door and opens the envelope. One paper, written in French, she passes over. The other is in English, which is decipherable for her. She spends several minutes parsing over it, and then nearly drops it in shock._

_"Papa!"_

_Edward comes rushing in. "What is it, Nessie? Is it your time?"_

_"No, Papa. This…" She holds out the notes. "Adam's family in France. They found us, and sent someone to tell him he inherited. There's a plantation on the island of Martinique…it's ours."_

-0-0-0-

**Robin, 2017**

Robin had a smile on her face when she opened her eyes. Kyle grinned at her as she sat up.

"That was amazing!" he exclaimed. "I was just trying to cover some ground when I did all that fast-forwarding. It was like something was guiding us to exactly what we needed to see from Vanessa's memory to finish her story."

"It did clear everything up, didn't it? I didn't have any control."

"Must be Vanessa watching over you."

"Maybe." Robin considered. "I remember you saying once that Vanessa married a plantation owner. That was Adam, wasn't it? His name was on the record as her husband."

Kyle nodded mutely.

"You knew all along they were going to get married. Ever since Adam told Vanessa his name." She couldn't help the slight accusing tone her voice was taking. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Yes, I guessed things were going to work out between them. But I couldn't believe it at first. How could the Leviathan turn out to be a plantation owner? I was as curious to find out the end as you were." He paused. "I was going to tell you how to look it up before my father let you go."

"I guess I appreciate that. What else did you find out?"

"Just basic life statistics. Adam and Vanessa had four children. They died within days of each other, in 1803. The family stayed with the plantation for several generations before finally selling it and moving to the United States after the Civil War. That's when they Anglicized their name from du Gris to Grey."

"Then I'm a direct descendant—of both of them."

"Through the male line. That's all we knew, really. But your ancestors have been rich for quite some time."

"Do you know if they ever contacted your family? The wife and child Captain Kerry mentioned?"

"No idea." Kyle shrugged.

Something occurred to Robin. "If you had known, could I have watched the whole thing from Adam's perspective rather than Vanessa's? That would have saved you a lot of time in finding the Fountain."

"Probably, but I don't think it would have worked, based on the experimentation we did before we brought you in. Syncing with an ancestor of the opposite gender is almost impossible. Other subjects—people—we tested, said there was always a lurking sense of something wrong, something off, when they were females synced with a male relative, and vice versa. The link could never be maintained for more than a few minutes before the person's brain started to reject it. And that's dangerous, as you know."

Robin shuddered, remembering her earliest encounter with the Animus. "My poor brain might not have taken too kindly to transforming into a giant shark, either."

"True," Kyle chuckled. Both of the sobered at the same instant when the thought of a giant shark led them to the logical conclusion: Russell.

"Listen, Kyle…" Robin said hesitantly. "I really am sorry about your dad. I never liked him, but he was your dad, after all."

"It's all right. At least…he has a chance to come back. Not like Mom…" He trailed off for a moment, then seemed to collect himself. "Anyway, if he finds something to tie him to the mortal world in the next ten years, maybe I'll see him again. Someday."

"And he may be a better person when he comes back. Adam managed to regain his humanity, even after almost ten years," she reminded him.

"With Vanessa's help. She was his tie to the mortal world, and when she said she'd never leave him…" He trailed off as an idea occurred to him. "That must be what Calypso meant when she said she couldn't bind me, despite the Carey family debt to her."

"You mean, me?"

"You did say you loved me before we went into the cave," he reminded her. "You did mean it, didn't you?"

"Of course!" Robin exclaimed. "You're…there's nobody like you." She put her hands on her hips when she saw his grin. "You know that. You shouldn't fish for compliments."

"I wasn't!" he insisted. "I was just testing my theory that you saved me from forced service to the Sea Goddess."

When he put it that way it was hard to be mad at him. Robin hid her smile, however. "I resent being treated like the end result of some experiment of yours."

Kyle mimicked her gesture. "No, you don't. Now who's fishing for compliments?"

"You—" Robin felt her face flush. He'd read her like a book, as usual. Life with him in it was never going to be boring.

Kyle didn't wait for her to come up with something to say to him. He hopped to take a seat on the Animus table beside her, put his hands on either side of her face, and kissed her. A small part of Robin wanted to object, but the rest of her was too happy and surprised to do anything to change the current state of affairs. Robin had been kissed before, most recently by Adam while she was synced with Vanessa. That kiss came close to this experience, but it paled in comparison to being able to kiss back exactly as she wanted to, and to respond to Kyle of her own volition. For his part, despite his original initiative Kyle seemed almost hesitant at first. But he soon warmed up and their kisses became more and more enthusiastic.

They came up for air after a few minutes. Robin tried to flatten her hair where Kyle had been running his fingers through it. Kyle himself leaned back, looking almost dreamy. "I've wondered since college why some people seemed obsessed with kissing, even when other people were watching. I think I finally get it."

"You were thirteen when you went to college, and the girls were all five years older," Robin pointed out. Then a thought occurred to her. "Don't tell me—that wasn't your first time, was it?"

Kyle nodded, his cheeks slightly red. "I never had time for girls when I was in school, what with one thing and another. Then once I was out of school I realized I didn't know any girls, and had no clue how to attract them, either. Nor did I want the type that would only be interested in landing the heir to my dad's company. So I decided not to bother. Mom had me helping people out of the car and pulling seats out since I was little—that much is instinct to me now. But I've never really dated. Or kissed anyone."

"For a beginner, you're not bad," Robin said with a chuckle. "And as for dating, the last one I had was my senior prom. After I left Yale, I couldn't trust anybody enough to let them get closer than a casual drink. We'll have to figure this out together." She ran her hands through her hair, messing it up even more. "And I have to figure out how to introduce you to my parents, once they figure out I'm no longer in hiding. Which won't take them too long."

"I think you should save that worry for a later date. Now that we're finished here—we are, aren't we?"

"Yes, I think so." Robin slid her palm over the cool Animus table. Vanessa was still very prominent in her head, but there was also a sense of closure as well. Her ancestress had found happiness, and Robin thought maybe she had as well.

Kyle slid off the table. "Good. Now that we're finished here, we both have a lot to take care of. I have to figure out what to do with dad's company, now that he's gone. That's sure to take a lot of work."

"You're up for it. I'll do my best to help you; I learned a couple tricks from my dad over the years that might be helpful." Robin glanced down. "What about the Animus?"

"All of this is going into storage. Someplace secret, of course. I don't want to risk technology like this falling into the wrong hands, after how it was used by dad and Abstergo. It could be useful for actual scientific research into genetic memory, but until we find some trustworthy people to work on it, it's going to disappear."

"That sounds like a good idea." Robin smiled at the plural. He made them sound like a real team.

"You have to work things out with your job, and all of the fun fiasco that's likely to be," Kyle continued. "I'll help as much as I can, of course, but we're both going to have to work to keep words like 'kidnapping' from entering the dialogue. If you'd rather I didn't go to jail, that is. I understand if you want someone punished for what's been done to you."

"Are you kidding? The people who needed to be punished for that already have been, and better than any judge could come up with. I _would_ like you to apologize to Miles, my bartender friend, and see that he gets some sort of restitution."

"Consider it done."

"As for the rest of it, not hiding from my parents means I can take a more active role in working with the dolphins, if I can get my job back. If not, I can always try somewhere else." She paused. "I would like to stay in the Caribbean rather than move back to the States. At least for awhile. I'll find an apartment again, and—"

"You could always live in one of my dad's places. He has several scattered around the islands. I can't use all of them," Kyle offered.

"Thanks, but no. I still like to earn what I get. I can manage."

"I'm going to have a hard time roping you in, aren't I?" Kyle asked, almost to himself.

"Just because I've fallen in love with you doesn't mean I've changed everything about me overnight. Having someone else in my life as close as you will take some getting used to. I'm just giving you fair warning. But trust me: I know this is the real deal. I won't disappear on you, Kyle. Ever."

"I know that. How else do you think I escaped Calypso's curse? If what we have were something less than permanent, I might have fins and fangs right now." He glanced at his hands, which seemed to remind him of something. "At least the Fountain seems to have worked its wonders. It will take a few more tests, but I may be cured of my gluten intolerance."

"That's great news!"

"I look forward to seeing if real wheat tastes better than the synthesized variety."

Robin thought back to their meals at the conference table. "Maybe not _better_," she mused. "Just different. I don't think you'll mind the change too much."

"It will definitely make eating out a little easier."

"Speaking of which, it's getting late. Is there any point in going down to the rest of the island tonight, or can you stand one more night sleeping on the table?"

"I can handle another night. Your pillow was a big help. The business of getting back to real life can wait until morning. In the meantime, we can order out…and maybe watch another Indiana Jones while we eat. As our official first date, if you want."

"That actually sounds fantastic. What kind of food did you have in mind?"

"Is pizza all right? There are pizza places everywhere, and I can get one of my dad's—my—somebody, to pick it up."

Robin agreed, pretending not to notice his stumble. She waited until the pizza was ordered and one of the staff delegated to get it at an appropriate time. Then she said, "You know, while we're waiting, there's one thing we never got to do."

"What's that?"

"Choose music for that animated clip we made. You know. The ballroom one."

"Oh, right. That." Despite his words, it was clear he'd known what she was going to say from the moment she mentioned something unfinished. "Sure. We can do that now. Give me a minute to bring everything up."

He down in front of his computer and began clicking on icons. First the ballroom scene, and then their created characters of one another, appeared on screen. Kyle clicked the "play" button on his command toolbox, and they watched the figures whirl around the dilapidated ballroom again.

"Nothing too slow," commented Robin. "They're moving relatively fast."

"Got it." Kyle called up another toolbar. This one had a long list of songs. Robin scanned over his shoulder as he scrolled through them. A few times one would stop to suggest a song, and the other would reject it. Once or twice they listened to a clip before moving on by mutual agreement.

"How about this?" Kyle asked, highlighting a song. "It's relatively old—early 2000s."

"I've never heard it," Robin admitted. The song was called 'It is You I Have Loved.' Kyle clicked on it, and Robin was immediately taken with the opening flute melody. The tempo seemed right, and she liked the lyrics. It seemed to fit the pair of them, as well as Adam and Vanessa, whose story had carried down echoes from the past to shape what had happened more than two centuries later.

"It's no more mystery, it is finally clear to me,

You're the home my heart searched for so long.

It is you I have loved, all along."

"It's perfect," she declared. And indeed, when Kyle had played the song along with the dancers, only a few minor adjustments to their movement was needed to fit the song exactly.

"You're right." They watched their characters spin, and for a moment Robin was in the ballroom herself, confidently dancing on Kyle's arm. Well, maybe someday in real life they'd dance, though likely not in a gloriously decayed mansion.

Then, abruptly, the pizza arrived. Kyle saved their creation and flipped to _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade._ Robin was disappointed, but only for a few seconds. It was impossible not to be sucked into Indy and his exploits. Real life would return tomorrow with a vengeance, but for now Robin could enjoy the moment, knowing that she and Kyle could face whatever came as a pair.

"Is Indy going to chase a truck down on horseback again?" she asked.

"Shhh. Wait and see," said Kyle. "Why do you want to know, anyway? The future's more interesting when you don't see it coming."

"You're impossible," grumbled Robin. Then she thought of a better argument. "The past can sometimes be used to predict the future. After our recent experiences, you can't deny that. So am I right?"

Kyle looked heavenward. "You're too good. But even so, things usually don't turn out the way you expect."

Robin couldn't argue with that. "Too true," she said, and took another bite of pizza.

**The End**

* * *

_Author's Note/Oscar Speech: Well, there you have it. The end, two little words that finish it all, after over a year. I never expected it to take this long when I started (nor did I expect Will and Bootstrap to make a sudden cameo in the end, but that's the way the cookie bounces sometimes in writing). People have come and gone since I began; hopefully a lot of you who started out with me are still here. This is the longest story in terms of word count I've ever written by myself, and probably the most complicated by far. Juggling this many main characters has been an adventure, and trying to make sure all four, plus the supporting cast, were fleshed out and believable with proper motivation (the consequence of taking writing classes) was fun. My main cast was distinctive enough that I never got them mixed up with each other. I still can't decide which is my favorite pair, they were each easier and harder to write in turn. My affections tended to flip flop depending on who I was writing at the time, Vanessa and Adam or Kyle and Robin. I think my main guys were the hardest to get a bead on, Adam because of course he's the Leviathan and doesn't really remember humanity, and Kyle because he's a genius with an IQ count waaaay over mine_._ Plus they're guys and I'm female, and as Kyle points out in this chapter there are certain amounts of brain functionality that are just generally incompatible. But I digress. Moving on..._

_Where to go from here? My well of unique Beauty and the Beast crossover ideas has pretty much run dry. Which is probably good, judging from the relatively low amount of response to this fic compared to my others. Not that I don't greatly appreciate those who did take the time to read and review! I just get the sense that people are ready for something else. I've got a few other ideas for fanfics I'm batting around in my head, two Beauty and the Beast (inside the Disney version universe but probably alternate circumstances rather than canon), and one Danny Phantom. I have a lot of time this summer, so something may get started before I head off to grad school in the fall. But enough about me! It's all about you, after all!_

_Acknowledgements! Let's get this party started:  
_

_Cywyllog: You know you're awesome in 100 million different ways, so I'll just reiterate for the record. You are super, uber awesome. Not only did you put up with me plotting for an entire year, but you also read every chapter before I posted AND corrected my Jack Sparrow speech because I'm just not obsessed enough with his amazingness to get it right. Oh, and Mordred, who always gets an acknowledgment in this section at the end of a story because he, like his charge, tolerates me. A fact for which I'm grateful. Miss you both very much. Why is college only four years long?_

_Samara Raine: You joined the voyage relatively late, I think, but your review of chapter 21 was possibly the most touching I've ever recieved in my life. My writing process as it developed has become very visual; I see everything in my head and then attempt to convey it on paper so that my readers will also be able to see precisely what I am seeing. The fact that I was able to do this for you as well really tells me how far I've come as a writer. Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you were satisfied with the long-awaited kiss in this chapter!_

_RhiannonAmidala: You were one of my most consistant reviewers. So sorry this story finally has to end, but I always enjoyed hearing from you._

_shortstef: As I said at the end of Hero, thanks for reading! Your 'The Beautiful and the Beastly' was one of the earliest Beauty and the Beast fanfics I ever read, and it really got me hooked into the fandom. Any possibility of finishing/reworking The Chip Chronicles? I hope so!_

_Blackgrrl192, summer_star, Tuima, megaman51, princess of tennis, and teardrop456: You get a section to yourselves because you reviewed five chapters or more. Thanks a lot! Your feedback meant a ton, and really kept me motivated to keep writing, even in the long lulls between chapters, because I didn't want to let you down. I hate it when people start out a promising fic and then drop it in the middle for reasons other than they want to rewrite/improve it and then repost. So thank you for being my motivation to keep up with this one!_

_TrudiRose, BookRose, Jeruselum, and Annie Forest: You all reviewed more than once. All four of you know me from previous fics, so thanks for checking this one out! Haven't heard from you in awhile, hope you're still reading and you like what you've seen. Trudi, you are probably one of the most renowned writers in the Beauty and the Beast fandom (everyone should read her stuff who hasn't yet!), so having your feedback even on a few chapters meant a lot.  
_

_Damian, Erisah Mae, Answer, CartoonJessie, Xoroth, simplegrl007, and J.C. le Mysterieuse: Thanks very much for the reviews! Damian, as I've said before I love your Beauty and the Beast/Fairytales series. Joshua has to be one of my favorite fictional characters, hands down. Good luck with your wedding this month! Jessie and Isabella, we miss you both on Bittersweet and Strange (a forum for lovers of Disney's Beauty and the Beast, for those who don't know). Simplegrl, I did enjoy your guesses as to where I was going with this fic, way back in chapter 9. Some of the ending even I wasn't clear on back then! If you're still around, let me know what you thought of how it did come out._

_I think that's all the human acknowledgments. Let's see: song, book video game and movie references (of which there are a lot). I don't own any of these things, they belong to their respective artists/creators/those who paid for them. Books: Hobbes' _Leviathan_, Shakespeare's _Hamlet, _and McGuire's _Wicked._ Movies: Disney's Beauty and the Beast; Pirates of the Caribbean 1 though 3; Star Wars 1 through 6; Transformers 1 and 2; Iron Man; Lord of the Rings 1 through 3; Toy Story; Stardust; Indiana Jones 1 through 3; and the Princess Bride. Video games: Assassin's Creed and Oregon Trail. Songs: Carrickfergus, a traditional Irish ballad; Be Thou My Vision, an Irish hymn; My Heart Will Go On from Titanic, performed by Celine Dion; It is You I Have Loved from Shrek, performed by Dana Glover; So Close from Enchanted, performed by Jon McLaughlin, and A Moment Like This, performed by Kelly Clarkson. Whew. I think that's it. Copyright bases covered._

_So keep a weather eye on the horizon and see what I come up with now that this monster's over with._

_Over and out,_

_SamoaPhoenix9  
_


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